RUSSIA 

TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 



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RUSSIA 

TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 



BY 



PAUL Ni MILIUKOV 



Seto gotft 

THE MACMILLAN COMPANY 

1922 

All rights reserved 



PEINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA 



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Copyright, 1922, 
By THE MACMILLAN COMPANY. 



Set up and printed. Published May, 1922. 



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New York, U. S. A. 

©CI.A677234 

MAY 24 1922 



To 
MY AMERICAN AUDIENCES 



PREFACE 

This book has its origin in my intercourse with 
American audiences during the past three months. 
Hence — its dedication. It could not have been written 
before the end of 1921, nor could it have taken its pres- 
ent form in surroundings less sympathetic or more in- 
clined to take sides in the events here described. It 
was necessary for the cycle of events in Russia to come 
to a close, before its meaning could become patent and 
a criterium be found by which these events could be 
judged in their unity and completion. I think this is 
now the case with both the "White" and the "Red" 
movements in Russia. The former ran its course with 
the loss of the last patch of anti-Bolshevist territory in 
the Crimea; the latter — with the Great Russian famine. 
General Wrangel's defeat manifested the degeneration 
of the "White" movement. The famine of 1921 dem- 
onstrated Russia's exhaustion under the Bolshevist 
rule. Whatever happens in the time to come, these 
two phenomena will mark the turning point in the 
Russian Revolution. 

I gladly accepted the invitation to deliver a course of 
eight lectures on Russia at the Lowell Institute, Boston, 
Mass., in October and November, 1921, because by this 
time I had come to a definite conclusion as to the mean- 
ing and the place of the Russian events of the past four 
years in the history of our Revolution. The reader will 
see that I draw a distinction between the Revolution as 

vii 



viii PREFACE 

a great historical process which transforms human psy- 
chology and institutions, and its passing stages and 
varying moods. In 1903-1905 I had occasion to explain 
to Chicago and Boston audiences the origin of our 
revolutionary process; now I was tempted to analyze 
its present significant phase. 

It is important for the reader to discriminate between 
the passing form and the lasting substance of the Rus- 
sian Revolution, as well as between its negative and 
positive aspects. While the destructive aspect of the 
Revolution is of necessity presented in detail in this 
book, I wish that the constructive processes of the 
Revolution should not be overlooked. We are witness- 
ing the birth of the Russian democracy, in the midst 
of the ruins of the past, which will never return. One 
must not be impatient with the great and complicated 
revolutionary process which in other countries took de- 
cades, if not centuries, for its completion. 

The double title of this book, "Russia To-day and 
To-morrow," is intended to keep before the mind of the 
reader that basic idea of the Russian Revolution. One 
chapter is devoted to an attempt to foretell the out- 
lines of the coming Russia, as a result of the Revolu- 
tion. The reader will observe, however, that the con- 
ception of that Russia of to-morrow is present through- 
out the book and forms the thread which permits me 
to find myself and to lead the reader through the laby- 
rinth of events. 

I think that there are two requisites necessary for a 
successful presentation of my country's case before the 
American public opinion: the presentation must be 
sincere and truly democratic in spirit. Were I not cer- 
tain of my ability to meet these conditions, I would not 



PREFACE ix 

have come to America. I found my audiences here ex- 
tremely interested in the subject, I saw what they 
wanted of me, and I finally decided to present in book 
form the contents of miylectures and addresses. Of 
course, I had to write this book afresh from my notes, 
and this gave me the opportunity to expand most of 
the chapters far beyond the space of an hour's lecture. 

The first eight chapters of the book correspond with 
my lectures at the Lowell Institute (October 25-No- 
vember 18, and November 1-November 22, 1921) and 
I have preserved their titles. The ninth and the tenth 
chapters, in their initial form, formed the contents of 
my address before the Civic Forum in New York, de- 
livered, under the title "Russia To-day and To-mor- 
row," at the Town Hall, on November 11, 1921. The 
ninth chapter ("Russia To-morrow") is closely con- 
nected with the lectures delivered in Boston, and pre- 
sents their natural conclusion. 

The last two chapters deal with the relations, diplo- 
matic and intellectual, between Russia and the outside 
world. I did not intend to exhaust the question, but 
only to concentrate attention on the two aspects which 
are of special interest to America. The Russian, and 
especially the Siberian question, as it might have been 
put before the Washington Conference, could not be 
omitted at the moment when the Conference was in 
the center of the world's attention. That is why I 
have treated that problem in greater detail than in my 
lecture before the Civic Forum. The Siberian- Jap- 
anese problem formed the subject of my lectures at 
the Cleveland Reserve University (at the McBride 
Foundation) and at the Chicago University, on De- 
cember 13 and 14. Of course, in its final form the sub- 



x PREFACE 

ject has been brought up to the present moment, and 
the chapter includes an analysis of the stand taken by 
the Washington Conference; the readers will also find 
in this chapter new material brought to Washington 
by the Vladivostok delegation. The eleventh chapter 
("Russia's Contribution to the World Civilization") 
reproduces a lecture delivered at Columbia University, 
on November 28, 1921. Its content is not closely con- 
nected with the other parts of the book, but I followed 
the advice of some of my hearers, who found that in 
"Russia of To-morrow" the noblest side of the Rus- 
sian life of yesterday and to-day, its great- culture, 
could not be omitted. 

I cannot mention here all the opportunities afforded 
me to address numerous American audiences on the 
various phases of the Russian problem. The text of 
some of those addresses is preserved in the publication 
of the respective institutions.* I can only say that 
it was the free exchange of opinions, of questions and 
answers, which particularly stimulated me to fix my 
views in this book and which drew my attention to 
special points needing and deserving elucidation. 

I hope that this book will meet with the same atten- 
tion which was accorded its author by his American 
audiences. 

Paul N. Miliukov. 

New York, February 7, 1922. 

* See "The Consensus," published by the National Economic 
League of Boston, Vol. 7, No. 1, January, 1922; also the "Annals 
of the American Academy of Political and Social Science." Phila- 
delphia, March, 1922. 



CONTENTS 

CHAPTER PAGE 

I. Why the Revolution Could Not Be 

Averted 1 

II. Why the Bolsheviks Got the Upper Hand 23 

III. The Bolshevist Regime 45 

IV. The Revolution and Nationalities . 71 
V. The Foreign Policy of Bolsheviks ... 96 

VI. Anti-Bolshevist Russia 121 

VII. The Decline of Bolshevism 188 

VIII. The Famine \ 231 

IX. Russia To-morrow 262 

X. Russia — Siberia — Japan — Washington . . 297 

XL Russia's Contribution to the World's 

Civilization 355 

Alphabetical Index 389 



RUSSIA 

TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 



RUSSIA TO-DAY AND 
TO-MORROW 



CHAPTER I. 

WHY THE REVOLUTION COULD NOT BE 
AVERTED. 

Seventeen years ago, in 1904, I addressed an Ameri- 
can audience on the subject of the Russian Crisis. 
Some of my present readers may recall, in substance, 
what I then said. I am now going to speak on the 
Russian Catastrophe. In this catastrophe, we witness 
the end, or, at any rate, the continuation of the same 
process which then began. This change from "Crisis" 
to "Catastrophe" may convey to you the tragic mean- 
ing of the revolutionary process which has developed 
in Russia during these seventeen years. 

In 1904 the first Russian Revolution was approach- 
ing. It took place in the year following my first com- 
ing here. The symptoms of the Revolution were so 
clear and obvious to everybody, except the Tsar and 
his Government, that it was not very difficult to play 
the prophet. The reasons why the first Russian Revo- 
lution, in 1905, became unavoidable were discussed in 
my previous lectures. 1 

I am going to tell you now what has happened since 

x "Russia and its Crisis," 1905, Chicago University Press. 

1 



2 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

and just what made necessary and unavoidable the 
second Russian Revolution in 1917. 

The chief reason was that the first RevoluUun 
proved abortive. In a moment of panic the Tsar 
signed the renowned October (30) Manifesto of 1905. 
Had this promise been seriously meant and had it re- 
sulted in a real constitution and a sound beginning 
of political freedom been made at that time, the second 
Revolution might not have happened at all. But, as 
a matter of fact, the Tsar never wished to curtail his 
prerogatives. His view, and especially the view of the 
Tsarina, was that it was his moral duty, to pass unim- 
paired the whole inheritance that he had received from 
God and from his ancestors to his heir and successor. 
This uncompromising view, common to all autocrats, 
made tragic the Tsar's destiny. But it also caused the 
Russian revolutionary process- to continue and at the 
same time it extremely complicated its issues. 

The Tsar soon repented having yielded even so 
little as he really had given to the Russian people. He 
was always on the alert for a favorable moment to 
come, to recover his complete autocratic power. The 
young popular representative, the "Duma," on the 
other hand, wished to extend its power over the ex- 
tremely narrow limits of the sham constitution of 
1906. The Duma insisted on being a real represen- 
tation of the nation and a real legislative organ of 
power. Nicholas II remained hostile to his creation. 
He preserved his right to nominate his ministers and 
half of the members of the Upper House, and he made 
unlimited use of that right in order to do what he liked 
and to paralyze every action of the Duma which was 



REVOLUTION COULD NOT BE AVERTED 3 

not to his taste. That is why the decade of years which 
p f gecj between the two Revolutions (1906-1917) was 
niled with relentless struggle between the Duma and 
the Tsar's ministers, which made peaceful progress im- 
possible for Russia. 

This struggle passed through two stages, which cor- 
respond to the periods of the sessions of the two first 
and two last Dumas. The first stage, which includes 
the activity of the first two Dumas, was short and 
violent (1906-7). The second stage, that of the last 
two Dumas (1907-1917), was comparatively long and 
outwardly quiet. But there was no quiet in the coun- 
try. A second conflict, much more serious than the 
first, was ripening, and everybody knew it. 

The political party I belong to (the Constitutional- 
Democratic, founded in 1905, the first of the Russian 
constitutional parties) through all four Dumas never 
ceased to be in opposition to the Tsar's Government. 
In fact, all the parties that claimed to represent de- 
mocracy, either bourgeois or socialistic, were on the 
same side. We, I mean my party, the "Cadets" (the 
Constitutional-Democratic) had been in the majority 
in the first Duma. An attempt was made by the Tsar, 
through his ministers, to approach me on the subject 
of building a majority Cabinet. But the mediators 
were not in earnest. They were anxious to have some 
popular names in the Cabinet, but they were not pre- 
pared to make any substantial concessions to our politi- 
cal program. Of course, under such conditions, we 
were unable to take the power and the responsibility 
before the nation. The negotiations came to nothing, 
and the chance for a peaceful evolution was lost. The 



4 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

alternative, proposed to the Tsar by his bureaucratic 
minister, Mr. Stolypin, was, to dissolve the first Duma, 
"the Duma of popular hopes," as it was called. Un- 
fortunately, the Tsar decided to take that advice. The 
Duma was dissolved after 70 days of existence. An 
appeal for passive resistance, issued by the opposition 
from Viborg, fell flat. However, the nation's answer 
to the dissolution of the Duma was given on the oc- 
casion of new elections. The electors, in spite of all 
exertions of the Government (not yet quite experi- 
enced in the art of electioneering), sent to the second 
Duma — the Duma of the "popular wrath" — a socialist 
majority, instead of the former bourgeois radical one. 
Thenceforth, the fate of the popular representation was 
sealed. A compromise had been possible with the con- 
stitutionalist majority, but, as has been shown, it did 
not materialize. No compromise whatever was possible 
with the socialist parties, who were then extremist and 
revolutionary. After 100 days of existence, in spite 
of its very cautious tactics, the second Duma was also 
dissolved. The motive — this time it was a very serious 
one — was found in the attempt of an extreme socialist 
faction to make use of their parliamentary seats to pre- 
pare for a revolution in Russia. 

The second stage began with an open breach of the 
Constitution. Mr. Stolypin, under the influence of the 
nobility and reactionary parties, persuaded the Tsar, 
before summoning the third Duma, to change the 
electoral law. According to the Fundamental Law of 
1905, granted by the Tsar himself, this change could 
not have been introduced without the consent of the 
Duma. But the Constitution was violated. A new 
electoral statute was promulgated by the Tsar's order 
on June 16, 1907, which artificially transferred the ma- 



REVOLUTION COULD NOT BE AVERTED 5 

jority from the democratic parties to the privileged 
class of the nobility and the gentry. 1 

From that moment the Duma lost all its influence on 
the nation. Political parties, representing the masses, 
were declared "illegal" and officially prosecuted. To 
take their place in the Duma, new parties were built 
under the auspices of the Government, and these repre- 
sented the privileged classes or reactionary political 
groups. It was this fictitious representation, ready to 
follow every hint of the Government, which functioned 
as a legislative organ during the decade of 1907-17. 
Only such laws had a chance to pass as were desired 
or introduced by the Government. All exertions of the 
opposition to give the form of laws to the general prin- 
ciples proclaimed by the October manifesto of 1905, 
such as liberty of speech, liberty of conscience, of meet- 
ings, locomotion, inviolability of person, were* regularly 
defeated by the governmental majority or were post- 
poned ad Kalendas Grcecas. On the other hand, im- 
portant legislation was passed securing the landed 

^his important fact can be illustrated by the change in social 
composition of the Duma before and after the breach of the Con- 
stitution. 

Before 1907 After 1907 

(per cent.) (per cent.) 

Landed gentry 34 51 

Peasants 43 22.4 

Burgesses 23 24.2 

Workingmen 3.4 2.3 

It must be added that under the electoral regulation of June 16> 
1907, peasants' and workmen's deputies were elected from a number 
of candidates not by themselves but by a group of biggest landowners 
and richest burgesses, at their choice, in electoral assemblies of the 
Provinces. This explains why the peasants' representatives, who 
filled up the ranks of the opposition in the first two Dumas, now 
almost exclusively sat on the backs of the Government parties, 
thus enforcing the absolute majority of the landed gentry. See my 
article on "The Representative System in Russia," in "Russian Re- 
alities and Problems," Cambridge, Great Britain, 1917. 



6 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

property of the nobles or curtailing the rights of na- 
tionalities (Finland, Poland). 

However, there was another side to that domination 
of the Duma by the Government, — and it must not be 
overlooked. In such questions as budget, education, 
national defense, the governmental majority, from 
patriotic considerations or under the influence of public 
opinion, was often moved to vote with the opposition 
against the Government. Such votes, of course, had 
no practical consequences. They did not overthrow 
the Cabinets. The vote of mistrust in no way deprived 
the ministers of the Tsar's confidence. On the con- 
trary: it almost seemed that the more a minister suc- 
ceeded in antagonizing the Duma, the more reliable 
he was considered to be in that contest between the old 
regime and the Russian democracy. 

As a result, the activity of the Duma — even in its 
chastened form — far from removing the danger of a 
new revolution, rather contributed to increase this dan- 
ger. Any constructive work which might satisfy public 
needs and thus help to mitigate popular disaffection, 
was made impossible by the governmental majority 
and by the Upper House of a unique structure: "a 
cemetery of the Duma's good intentions," as witty 
people called it. On the other hand, open criticism of 
the Government's policy could not be forbidden to the 
opposition. The Duma's sittings, which were public, 
soon became the only place where free speech was 
heard, and no censure was able to stifle severe exposure 
of the Government's secret designs. The names of 
the opposition speakers in the Duma became widely 
known all over the country. This explains why, under 
the second Revolution, the opposition leaders of the 
Duma automatically became leaders of the popular 



REVOLUTION COULD NOT BE AVERTED 7 

movement, in which the Duma itself was unable to 
play any part. 

At the same time, public debates on questions of 
budget, legislation, foreign politics, military and naval 
defense contributed to lift the veil which until then had 
kept back the unqualified laymen from the sanctuary 
of governmental practice. Due to the Duma, political 
discussion was becoming common property. 

In the general opinion, even of the moderate circles, 
the second Revolution was bound to come. Moreover, 
everybody was sure that this revolution was bound to 
be a greater success than the first one, as a result of 
the better political education of the masses. 

This is a very brief and rapid outline of the political 
events which contributed to prepare the second Rus- 
sian Revolution, in 1917. But you could never realize 
just why an uprising against such a tremendous power 
as that of the old autocracy seemed to be proved so 
easy, and why the whole fabric of the bureaucracy 
went to pieces at once and was so thoroughly destroyed 
to its very foundations, should I confine myself to that 
outward description of the general trend of the latest 
events, since I last was in America. A deeper insight 
into the Russian past is necessary in order to explain 
certain special features of the Russian Revolution. My 
explanation remains substantially the same as that 
which I gave to my American readers before the Revo- 
lution. 

Speaking generally, one may say that at a certain 
period of national development a violent overthrow of 
obsolete political and social institutions is very likely 
to come in every civilized community capable of 
evolving from medievalism to modern democracy. The 
Russian Revolution is no exception to that general 



8 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

rule. It is in many aspects similar to other revolu- 
tions, e.g., the English Revolution of the XVII Cen- 
tury — and especially the great French Revolution of 
1789-95. In my capacity of historian I have studied 
both. But after having passed through that living ex- 
perience of our own Revolution, I read again, in 1917, 
Mr. Taine's volumes on the "Ancient Regime and the 
Revolution" — and I was amazed at many similarities 
in the smallest details which never before had arrested 
my attention. I now realize better than at any time 
of my former studies, just how much similar is the 
psychology of all revolutions. 

But, at the same time, one must not forget that every 
nation has its peculiarities, in its revolutionary, as well 
as in its normal stage of development. To make you 
understand that special character of the Russian Revo- 
lution, I must draw your attention to these peculiar 
features, made our own by the whole process of Rus- 
sia's history. To my mind, all these features converge 
into one. The fundamental difference which distin- 
guishes Russia's social structure from that of other 
civilized countries, can be characterized as a certain 
weakness or lack of a strong cohesion or cementation of 
elements which form a social compound. You can ob- 
serve that lack of consolidation in the Russian social 
aggregate in every aspect of civilized life: political, 
social, mental and national. 

From the political point of view, the Russian State 
institutions lacked cohesion and amalgamation with 
the popular masses over which they ruled. This pe- 
culiarity can be explained by the origin of the Russian 
State and by the process of its historical growth. Orig- 
inated on the confines of Europe and Asia, the Russian 
State was late to appear. You can observe a certain 



REVOLUTION COULD NOT BE AVERTED 9 

regularity in the order of development of States as 
you go from the West to the East of Europe. The 
same process of evolution of State institutions which 
took place on the banks of the Seine and Loire as early 
as V-VII Century a.d., developed itself one or two 
centuries later (VII- VIII) in the countries eastwards 
from the Rhine, and four or five centuries later on the 
Eastern Mark of Germany (IX-XI). On the bound- 
less plains of the future Russian Empire, State institu- 
tions developed five to nine centuries later than in 
France: the earliest date being that of Southern Rus- 
sia (Kieff on the Dnieper River, IX-XII Century), 
and the latest — that of the Muscovite center (XIV 
Century). 

Now, as a consequence of their later appearance, the 
State institutions in Eastern Europe necessarily as- 
sumed certain forms which were different from those in 
the West. The State in the East had no time to orig- 
inate from within, in a process of organic evolution. 
It was brought to the East from outside. In the West, 
the State gradually evolved from the initial stage of 
tribal existence, through the intermediary stage of 
tribal aristocracy (the heads of the clans). In the 
East, the internal differentiation within the tribes had 
not yet made sufficient progress when the necessity of a 
State organization was felt. In the absence of internal 
elements of national statehood, the State institutions 
were then simply superposed over the tribal institu- 
tions. We have a very telling legend which symbolizes 
this kind of origin of the Russian State. The emis- 
saries of the Russian Slavic tribes, the legend runs, 
went to the Northern viking Hrorekr, to invite him to 
come to Russia and to take up the kingly power. 
"Our land," it is related they said, "is a very large and 



10 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

rich one. But order is lacking. Come to rule and to 
reign over us." You will often hear now that expres- 
sion "calling for Northmen/' used to suggest that Rus- 
sia wants again its "order" to be brought from out- 
side. The same legend was used by the first and the 
only doctrine of Russian nationalism we have ever had, 
— by the so-called Slavophil doctrine. The Slavophils 
wished to prove by it that Russian State institutions, 
being of foreign origin, remained foreign to the Rus- 
sian soul and to the Russian country. The "land" did 
not wish to share in the sin of the "State." The "land" 
would rather have chosen the way of "internal truth" 
— the path of Mary — and have left the path of Martha 
— that of "external truth," of "order" preserved by 
force — to foreign hirelings. 

The point is, indeed, that for centuries the State 
power has remained in Russia what it was when the 
Northern vikings first came: an outsider to whom 
allegiance was won only in the measure of his utility. 
The people were not willing to assimilate themselves to 
the State, to feel a part of it, responsible for the whole. 
The country continued to feel and to live independent 
from the State authorities. This was not only possible: 
it was practically unavoidable as a natural result of an 
extremely primitive and undeveloped system of admin- 
istration. Under that system, which was characterized 
by an extreme scarcity of the executive organs of ad- 
ministration in the country, the central Government 
was simply unable to get at every single citizen. 
Whether it had to collect taxes and duties, or to prose- 
cute criminal offenders, its only means for a very long 
time was to address itself to the whole community to 
which this particular taxpayer or criminal offender be- 
longed. The community was made responsible for its 



REVOLUTION COULD NOT BE AVERTED 11 

single member. When Peter the Great decided to 
change that state of things and to introduce a better 
order into that primitive anarchy, by following the 
example of the Swedish system of administration — 
which was then held in high repute — his foreign ad- 
visers informed him that it was impossible to apply 
that system to Russia. The simple reason was that it 
was too expensive. They told Peter that the cost of 
administering one small Province, like Liefland, on the 
Swedish pattern, was more than the current expenses 
for the whole of Russia, when kept in order by tradi- 
tional means. 

The population was too poor to bear the expenses of 
the perfected provincial institutions of more advanced 
countries. Nay, it was even too poor to bear the ex- 
penses of the central administration with its rapidly 
growing needs. Political development and the process 
of expansion of the Russian State wasj always in ad- 
vance of Russia's economic, development. That is why 
the State was forced to extract from its poor subjects 
more than they could possibly give. Hence the objec- 
tive necessity to resort to force. The burden of sus- 
taining the, expanding State's institutions was becom- 
ing extremely heavy, and, of course, this growing 
charge was unable to contribute to transform traditional 
passive submission into a voluntary habit to obey. 

You now can see why in Russia (1), the rural popu- 
lation up to the last remained, in a sense, natural an- 
archists; (2), why all important changes were bound to 
come from above, from the State authorities, and (3), 
why each new power, which did not get too much 
"under the skin" of the plain people, was sure of being 
passively obeyed. This explains to a great extent the 
events of the Russian Revolution. 



12 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

We now pass to another aspect of the same basic 
feature: the lack of cohesion among the social ele- 
ments in Russia. We do not find in the social history 
of Russia any groups of population strong enough to 
limit the power of the State. We know that the case 
was different in Western Europe under medieval feud- 
alism or under more modern growth of urban liberties. 
In the European East there was no landed aristocracy 
and no "bourgeoisie" strong and united enough to be 
able to dictate conditions to the growing power of the 
Tsar. In Russia, as well as under the Byzantine or 
the Moslem rule, all land was supposed to belong origi- 
nally to the Chief of the State, whether his name was 
Emperor, Tsar or Khalif. The landed aristocracy, far 
from limiting the power of their sovereign, was in Rus- 
sia created by that same autocratic power as a class of 
the Tsar's military "servants." The Tsar allotted to 
them their landed estates, on the condition of actual 
military service. 

It is very characteristic that in Russia, since the XVI 
Century, the words "courtiers" and "men of service" 
were used to designate the class of nobility and gentry. 
It is true that in the XVIII Century the Tsar's dona- 
tions of military lots of land definitely evolved into 
unlimited and unconditioned private landed property. 
But the Russian peasants did not forget that origi- 
nally their landlord's estates belonged to the Tsar. And 
from that very moment when military lots became the 
private property of the nobles, the peasants persist- 
ently waited for the time when the Tsar would be kind 
enough to learn about their needs and to give them back 
the "land." They were sure that he would do that, 
while remunerating his old "servants" with money. 

On their part the landed nobility were doing exactly 



REVOLUTION COULD NOT BE AVERTED 13 

the opposite to what was necessary to undermine that 
popular opinion. In the first place, there was no law 
of primogeniture in Russia. Landed estates were di- 
vided and subdivided, until in the third or fourth gen- 
eration they formed a number of small lots which did 
not much differ from the peasants' holdings. Few 
ancient families of nobles remained alive : most of them 
died out. Admission to the gentry being free to every- 
body, the emptied ranks were gradually filled with new- 
comers. Especially, from Peter the Great's time it was 
sufficient to have reached a certain rank in the bureau- 
cratic or military service, or (at a later date) to have 
been decorated with St. Vladimir's order, to enter the 
ranks of the nobility. As time went on, that new 
aristocracy of "rank" lost in its turn a great part of its 
possessions, together with the former aristocracy of 
"provenience." A good deal was purchased by the 
peasants as a result of the Emancipation Act of 1861. 
But the nobles still preserved about 105 million des- 
siatines. They went on losing them during the last 
half century. Only a third of the number just men- 
tioned (35 million) remained in their possession at the 
moment of the Revolution of 1917. The peasants in- 
sisted on this remaining third being given over to_ 
them with the rest. It was, practically, this claim of 
the peasants that lay at the basis of all political strug- 
gle of the last decades. It was this social question 
which complicated so much the just and timely solu- 
tion of the problem of political freedom. The agrarian 
question had become the chief point of contention and 
competition in all party platforms. The socialisf 
groups accepted the peasants' standpoint concerning 
the transfer of lands from the nobles, but they wanted 
these lands to be given to the State, not to private 



14 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

peasants. My party, the "bourgeois" democracy, tried 
to reconcile the popular claims with the point of view 
of law on private property and with sound economic 
principles. It was chiefly with the aim to make such 
solutions impossible that the Government dispersed 
the first two Dumas, and changed the Electoral Law 
to the benefit of the nobles. Under the third, the Duma 
of the Government's own choice, the State authori- 
ties took the side of the big landowners. The new 
Premier, Mr. Stolypin, tried by special legislation to 
divert the peasants' attention from the lands of the 
nobility, and to remunerate the rich peasants at the 
expense of the poorest. This experiment of reactionary 
social legislation was among the causes which con- 
tributed to the success of the extreme elements under 
the second Revolution. The very first result of that 
Revolution was to deprive the new privileged group of 
the well-to-do peasant landowners of their possessions 
acquired under Mr. Stolypin's agrarian legislation. But 
then, the revolutionary process went farther. The 
peasants' solution of the agrarian tangle prevailed 
amidst the general crisis. The same revolutionary out- 
break which destroyed the autocracy, also completely 
swept away its ally, the landed aristocracy and the gen- 
try. You now can see to what a large extent this issue 
was favored and prepared by the social history of Rus- 
sia. 

Let us now pass to the third aspect of the funda- 
mental feature mentioned above: to the weakness of 
mental cohesion between the different social groups 
of the nation. Of course, it would be strange to deny 
that a certain national way of feeling and thinking is 
common to all social groups. A Russian intellectual 
is no foreigner to his people. But history, here too 



REVOLUTION COULD NOT BE AVERTED 15 

for a long time, prevented both groups, the intellect- 
uals and the people, from being welded together. In 
the first place, up to the last half century, the only- 
educated class in Russia was the nobility and gentry. 
The fate of this class was partly shared by the intellect- 
uals. Under Peter the Great, (1689-1725) to serve the 
State in its process of reform, they hurriedly picked 
up some superficial knowledge of applied science 
abroad. Under the Empress Elizabeth (1741-1761), 
to please her, tfiey imitated French fashions and 
learned to dress, to speak, and to dance, as it behooved 
accomplished courtiers. Under Catherine II (1762- 
1796), to follow her example, they read Montesquieu 
and Voltaire, and made progress in advanced politics. 
Under Alexander I (1801-1825), they definitely be- 
came revolutionaries. For the first time, they decided 
to serve — not the "State," but the country, and they 
did it in their own manner, in the way of Riego's and 
Pepe's. But, by their social extraction, as well as by 
the Government's policy, they still were prevented 
from actual intercourse with the people. The conse- 
quence of their estrangement from active politics and 
from contact with the plain people was an abstract way 
of thinking. Again, their abstract way of thinking 
drove them to a sort of intellectual extremism. The 
February Revolution in France (1848) made them 
socialists. They thenceforth obediently followed the 
metamorphoses of European socialism, passing from 
Fourier to Proudhon, from Proudhon to Karl Marx, 
and from Marx to revolutionary syndicalism. At the 
same time, beginning with the middle of the XIX Cen- 
tury, their ranks began to fill up from the lower social 
layers, and they definitely forsook civil and military 
service for journalism, for the academic career, science, 



16 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

art and other liberal vocations. They studied pretty- 
thoroughly the political life of the advanced democra- 
cies. But they had no access to their own. That is 
why they remained extremists, with very little, if any, 
political experience. The extremism of that part of the 
Russian intellectuals is to be greatly responsible for 
the failure of the first Revolution. It also proved 
detrimental to the success of our second Revolution, 
when a chance was given them for realizing their doc- 
trines. 

The fourth symptom of the lack of amalgamation is 
manifested by the divergent tendencies of the nationali- 
ties incorporated into the Russian State. I am far 
from asserting that no common interests united them 
with the whole of the Empire. On the contrary, there 
were a great many ties between them and Russia, and 
their severance is particularly keenly felt now that some 
of these nationalities are detached from the whole. 
But, there too, the aggregate was kept together by 
■p^passive rather by conscious desire to make one. The 
system of centralization and oppression used by the 
autocracy revolted the national feeling. Disaffection 
grew particularly strong during the last three decades 
of years, since the last attempts made by the reaction- 
ary Government of Alexander III to "Russianize" these 
nationalities. At the end of the XIX Century it had 
already become quite clear, that at the first opportunity 
the leaders of the groups just then awakened to their 
national consciousness would seareh for support out- 
side of Russia against that policy of bureaucratic cen- 
tralization. 

Such are the chief factors, deeply rooted in history, 
which were bound to come to the fore in any serious 
outbreak. A kind of spontaneous anarchy amongst 



REVOLUTION COULD NOT BE AVERTED 17 

the masses kept in a state of passive submission by a 
regime of force; the decaying power of a privileged 
class doomed to perdition and depending, for its salva- 
tion, on the equally decaying power of the autocracy; 
the theoretical maximalism of the revolutionary intel- 
lectuals, inclined to Utopian solutions, with no politi- 
cal experience to back them ; and, finally, the separatist 
strivings of intellectual leaders of national minorities: 
those are special features of any Russian revolution. 

We now know why a Revolution was likely to come 
and what its character was bound to be in Russia. But 
the question remains to be answered, just why and when 
had it become unavoidable? 

A revolution always becomes unavoidable when im- 
portant and vital reforms are impeded by an authority 
which has lost its moral prestige and has become power- 
less to suppress a growing and universal disaffection 
among the masses. 

We know what were the important and vital re- 
forms impeded by the Government. Two of them had 
become especially urgent: the substitution of a popu- 
lar constitutional regime for the patriarchal one and 
the transfer of the land from the decaying privileged 
class to the rural democracy. 

It was also universally known what was the chief 
obstacle in the path of these reforms. They were op- 
posed by a political alliance of the two forces whose 
interests were equally menaced by both reforms. Au- 
tocracy was menaced by the former; landed aristoc- 
racy was menaced by the latter. We know what were 
the poisonous fruits of this fatal alliance. It was the 
sham constitution of 1906 and the antiquated electoral 
system of 1907. 

As to the moral prestige of the dynasty, it was defi- 



18 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

nitely undermined by the court life and the court 
scandals. The Tsarina, the "German," was positively 
disliked by the masses, and she was generally consid- 
ered to be the evil genius of the Tsar. The comparison 
with Marie Antoinette was on everybody's lips. 

There remained physical force, for the regime to live 
upon. That force seemed to be overwhelmingly strong 
and invincible, no match for the weak forces of politi- 
cal opposition. The only thing that could disarm the 
autocracy was an unsuccessful war. That war came. 

In 1905 the autocracy received a first warning. 
After the defeat in the Russo-Japanese War, the situa- 
tion was favorable for a revolution. And Russia actu- 
ally passed through the initial stages of a Revolution. 
That first Revolution failed for many reasons. The 
opposition forces were scattered. They had just be- 
gun to organize, but as soon as they got their first vic- 
tory, the October Manifesto, they turned to fight each 
other. The dynasty was saved by the skillful maneu- 
vering of a self-made politician, Count Witte. Count 
Witte knew how to divide the forces of the opposition, 
and played them against each other, thus protracting 
\ the struggle until the Russian Army came back from 
the Far East and a loan was given to the Tsar by 
France. Autocracy had money and armed force. The 
Government then felt free to deal a decisive blow to the 
first Russian representative Chamber. 

In 1917 circumstances were much more favorable 
for a revolutionary outbreak to prove successful. There 
was no Witte, to save the Tsar. The moral and physi- 
cal exhaustion and destruction, brought about by an 
unprecedented World War, was by far deeper than in 
1904-5. The revolutionary forces were much better 
prepared and united, as a result of the first decade of 



REVOLUTION COULD NOT BE AVERTED 19 

the working of political representation. What did the 
autocracy have to oppose to all this? Nothing besides 
a stubborn and blind resistance to the slightest conces- 
sion, on the part of the Tsar's misguided and foolish 
advisers. 

Revolution had become unavoidable as early as the 
Autumn of 1915. Already at the beginning of that 
year the military unpreparedness of Russia had be- 
come so manifest and the Army had had to suffer such 
serious defeats, for no fault of its own, that public 
opinion was roused against the Government. The pub- 
lic asked for prompt measures to follow the lead of 
Lloyd George and Albert Thomas. The Duma made 
itself the mouthpiece of public opinion. For the last 
time the opposition tried to give the Tsar a chance 
and to extend to him a plank of salvation. I was my- 
self responsible for building an emergency majority 
in the Duma, which we called the "projg^sjysJiIoc/' 
although it was more than moderate in its platform. 
We wanted the Tsar to form a Cabinet which would 
"enjoy the confidence of the country." The Tsar would 
not listen to any hint at concessions. Moreover, he 
removed from office, one by one, all his Ministers who, 
without being liberal, felt the necessity of concessions 
and were favorable to the compromise proposed by the 
"progressive bloc." 

The chasm was now (in August, 1915) wide open 
and was no more to be bridged. Under the growing 
pressure of more radical political groups, the moderate 
proposals made by the "bloc" had to be withdrawn. 
Public opinion asked now for a parliamentary system 
based on the principle of responsibility of the Cabinet 
before the House. For the Tsar this demand was 
equivalent to asking for a Republic. 



20 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

Weak and indecisive by nature, Nicholas II fell com- 
pletely under the influence of his hysterical wife. The 
Tsarina insisted that no concessions should be granted. 
In her own way, she came to the conclusion that Louis 
XVI and Marie Antoinette had perished just for hav- 
ing yielded too much to the popular wishes. Her un- 
yielding temper was still more stiffened by a mystical 
idea that she was following God's orders. The Tsar 
and the Tsarina both listened to the voice from above, 
borne to them by the notorious Rasputin. This illiter- 
ate peasant profited by their superstition, to threaten 
them with the Almighty's wrath should they not follow 
his advice. 

His advice was that the Tsar should go to the Army 
and invest himself with the power and the dignity of 
Commander-in-Chief. Everybody thought it ex- 
tremely dangerous for the Tsar to make himself per- 
sonally responsible for the coming defeats, which grew 
more than probable. But the Tsar followed the voice 
from above, and he played a pitiful figure at the head- 
quarters of General Alexeiev. In the meanwhile, the 
Tsarina, who remained at her Petrograd residence, re- 
ceived the reports of the Ministers, retained in office 
such as pleased her, replaced others with her favorites, 
all of them quite insignificant personalities who came 
and passed like shadows. Rasputin's protection could 
be bought by any one who wished it, for money, and a 
gang of courtiers formed itself in order to exploit Ras- 
putin's influence for getting pecuniary benefits. In 
addition to being hated, the Government was now de- 
spised by everybody. It no longer inspired any fear. 

The Tsar's family, the Grand Dukes, who saw the 
approaching downfall of their dynasty, tried to draw 
the attention of the Tsar to the risk he and they were 



REVOLUTION COULD NOT BE AVERTED 21 

running. It was of no avail. To receive a hearing 
from the Tsar was difficult, but to have a talk with 
him on such unpleasant matters as called for decisive 
action on his part, was fully impossible. He would not 
listen to the advice, or, in case the informant should 
insist too much on his point, he would turn his back 
on him and — which was his favorite gesture on such 
occasions — would impatiently drum his fingers against 
the glass of a window. 

It looked as if, in his innermost recesses, he knew 
what was coming, but felt unable to grapple with the 
danger, — and as if in advance he had decided to submit 
to his fate. In the face of the obviously approaching 
catastrophe, he preserved a passive attitude. This, of 
course, helped to increase the danger. The most faith- 
ful servants of the Tsar, noting his passiveness, lost 
courage and let things take their course. The heads of 
the Army were quite prepared to back the coming 
overthrow. General Alexeiev had even decided to ar- 
rest the Tsarina at the time of her visit to his head- 
quarters. His sudden illness alone prevented him from 
trying in this way to escape from an extremely strained 
situation. At any rate, in this way or another, every- 
body felt that some change had to come. InTlnid^De^"] 
cember, 1916, a group of the Tsar's relatives, with the 
aid of the most reactionary of the Duma deputies, 
killed Rasputin. But as the Tsar remained inactive, 
everybody felt that this was not at all a solution. Then, 
a group of prominent personalities, including General 
Krimov and an influential member of the Duma, de- 
cided to resort to a military conspiracy of the guards, 
in order to imprison the Tsar. The conspirators pre- 
pared to act at the beginning of March, 1917. But, a 
few days before that time/the stroke came from below, 



22 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

in the form of an uprising of workmen and of some regi- 
ments of the Petrograd Garrison. It was neither a 
court conspiracy nor a military pronunciamento 
which deprived the Tsar of his throne. It happened 
to be a popular upheaval. The Revolution — hoped for 
by some, feared by many, foreseen by all — had finally 
become an actuality. 



CHAPTER II. 

WHY THE BOLSHEVIKS GOT THE 
UPPER HAND. 

In 1917, we had two revolutions: that of March, and 
that of November. We may call the first — a national 
revolution. The second was international. 

In March all parts of the nation and all political 
groups — even the conservative ones — united in one 
common effort to defeat their common enemy — the 
autocracy. Just why were the conservative groups 
against the autocratic regime? This is explained by 
the exceptional conditions of war time. The ancient 
regime once more (after the Crimean and the Japanese 
defeat) proved unable to provide for the national de- 
fense. Both the conservative and the liberal groups 
of public opinion were unanimous in concluding that 
no victory in war was possible for Russia as long as 
the methods of autocracy were applied to the struggle. 
This was the motive which led both moderate and con- 
servative groups to endorse the revolutionary move- 
ment. 

This was also the reason why the Duma — conserva- 
tive as it was in its majority — was ready and willing to 
cover with its authority the military insurrection of 
March 11 in Petrograd. The consent of the Duma at 
that moment was essential for the initial success of 
the Revolution. If there had been no Duma to lead 

23 



24 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

the movement, the responsible leaders of the army, 
such as General Alexeiev or Russki, would never have 
taken sides with the revolutionaries. The Tsar would 
not have been induced to abdicate so soon and so 
easily. A struggle would have begun on the very next 
day, in which the extreme elements alone and, per- 
haps, some parts of the Petrograd garrison would have 
fought on the side of. the Revolution. They probably 
would soon have been isolated and defeated. 

That is why the Russian reactionary groups are per- 
fectly right to hold the Duma leaders responsible for 
the success of the Revolution. It would be wrong and 
not honorable for the moderate elements of the Duma 
to deny their share of responsibility now that the revo- 
lutionary movement has taken to the path which they 
could not foresee and were unable to approve and to 
follow. On the other hand, it is also not right on the 
part of the extremists to minimize or to deny at all 
the role of the Duma in what they consider to be their 
Revolution. 

After the glorious days of the "bloodless" Revolution 
of March, there followed another Revolution which 
cannot be called national. For all purposes, this sec- 
ond stage of the Revolution, the Bolshevist revolution 
of November 7, 1917, was opposed to the former one. 
It claimed to be international, as its basic principle was 
a universal uprising of one single class, the working 
men, the "proletarians," against all governments and 
all other social classes, all over the world. Russia was 
to be used only as a stepping stone for that universal 
conflagration. The "communist" doctrine of the Bol- 
shevist revolution was a combined product of Marx' 
theory, Mr. Lenin's comment on it and the latest syn- 
dicalist teachings: i.e., it was also preeminently inter- 



• WHY BOLSHEVIKS GOT UPPER HAND 25 

national. Moreover, the chief leaders of the Bolshev- 
ist revolution had just come back to Russia from 
abroad, from Geneva, Paris, London, New York, and 
they knew much more about the international socialist 
movement than about Russian realities. >— 

On the face of it, the Bolshevist revolution of No- 
vember 7 seemed to be too much Utopian, to be able 
to succeed. How could Russia, — an economically back- 
ward country, which only a few decades before had en- 
tered its industrial stage, and which still remained 
essentially agricultural, — how could such a country be 
converted to socialism? Should it really happen, 
would it not be equivalent to a refutation of Marx' 
doctrine? According to Marx, only such countries 
which have passed through the stage of capitalism, in 
its most developed form, can be lifted to a "commun- 
ist" stage. 

We shall see later on, that the Bolsheviks knew all 
these arguments perfectly well. But we shall also see 
that they never intended to introduce communism in 
Russia. The November revolution was to be a revolu- 
tion not for Russia's sake, but for the sake of the world 
revolution. Russia was a means, not an aim in itself. 
Accordingly, the Bolsheviks only wished to make use 
of Russia for the period necessary to start revolution- 
ary outbreaks in real capitalistic countries. They did 
not think that period would last long, and their only 
ambition, in the beginning, was to beat the record of 
the Paris Commune of 1871. However, the reality de- 
feated all forecasts. The "communist" revolution of 
November, 1917, proved a much greater success than 
the national revolution of March. The last of the 
four governments of the national Revolution was over- 
thrown after eight months' duration. The Bolshevist 



26 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

government has now lasted for more than four years. 
How is it possible that the revolution which seemed by 
everybody failed so soon while the extremist, the Uto- 
pian, the class revolution appears to be so lasting? 

A complete answer will be given in the course of 
these chapters. But I must warn the reader right now 
not to be misled by their Bolshevik slogans. The 
''communist" revolution of November, 1917, is only 
a part of a long and complicated process. No "com- 
munism" was inaugurated by it in Russia, and the Bol- 
sheviks themselves had to adapt themselves to Russian 
realities in order to be able to exist. It was the con- 
tinuation of the general process of revolution which 
was secured by the Bolshevist victory: it was only a 
new stage which was thus opened. Accordingly, it is 
not the surface change of Governments, and not even 
the change in their tactics, but the continuity of that 
great principal stream of revolutionary transformation 
of Russia which is really important and which must 
draw our particular attention. 

It is not only a struggle between leaders of political 
parties, between their programs and methods, that we 
are now passing through in Russia. It is a real revo- 
lution. 

The psychology of all real revolutions is the same. 
They develop from comparatively moderate to more 
advanced and extreme tendencies, as soon as the move- 
ment passes from the leading groups to unorganized 
masses. A revolution is not only a dramatic overthrow 
of a central Government. It is a process, a changing 
state of mind in large social layers, and it takes time 
for this process to take root and to pass through all its 
stages. As long as that internal process in the social 



WHY BOLSHEVIKS GOT UPPER HAND 27 

organism has not run its inevitable course, the revolu- 
tion is bound to last and to develop. The natural end 
of the process is — the realization of the claims and de- 
sires put forward by the masses and left without satis- 
faction by the social and political forces which are 
destroyed in the process of revolutionary struggle. 

There exists a sort of instinctive fear on the part of 
the masses, lest a revolution finish too early. They 
feel it may prove abortive if the victory is won by 
the moderate elements alone. Whatever be the names 
or the programs of the political parties, the masses in 
the state of revolution always choose for their mouth- 
piece those who propose the most extreme solutions. 
On the contrary, such groups as intend to stop the 
revolution short of this mark, and thus seem to pre- 
clude the prospects of its possible achievements, soon 
become suspected of "counter-revolutionary" feelings 
and are thrown aside by a revolutionary movement in 
progress. 

However, certain incentives are necessary to bring 
that revolutionary psychology in motion. The first 
impression concerning the Russian Revolution is that 
there were in Russia no such motives for the revolu- 
tionary movement to evolve, as we find them in the 
great French Revolution. To begin with, there was no 
struggle for or against the royal power. The Tsar 
abdicated at once, and his successor refused to ascend 
the throne pending the decision of the Constituent 
Assembly. There was thus no actual struggle for or 
against the prerogative, as was the case under the Con- 
stituent Assembly of the French Revolution. Such 
political groups as remained monarchists kept silent 
and did not take part in the movement. All parties — 



28 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

even conservative ones — which were working in the 
limelight of politics, became formally Republican. 
Again, there was no fear of foreign invasion, no fear of 
outsiders who might come and join hands with the 
hidden monarchist groups, as was the case under the 
National Assembly and the Convention. There were 
no emigrants to insist on foreign intervention. All this 
appeared after November, under the class Revolution, 
and it explains the continuation of the process during 
the past four years. But in its first stage the "blood- 
less" Russian Revolution had no visible enemy, either 
"internal" or "external." 

And yet, in spite of all that, there were certain 
groups to which the term "counter-revolutionary' ' was 
^ already applied. The danger of a "counter-revolution" 
in Russia was used as a pretext for pushing to the front 
the so-called "revolutionary democracy." Was it a 
fictitious enemy, an imaginary danger? Was it a mere 
invention of the demagogues, in order to frighten the 
masses? Or was the danger real? 

In order to answer these questions, let us analyze the 
situation as it was between the two Revolutions of 
March and of November. There were three groups 
particularly active on the revolutionary stage: 

1. The "bourgeois' parties, represented chiefly by the ad- 
vanced groups of the Duma, by the more conservative com- 
mercial and industrial group, and, at the background, by 
some military organizations with a tendency to reaction. 

2. The moderate socialists, divided in two currents: the 
agrarian socialists (Social-Revolutionaries) and the prole- 
tarian socialists (Social-Democrats of the Marxist type), 
the so-called "Mensheviks." 

3. The international extremists, working for the world 
revolution, the so-called "Bolsheviks"; and some few So- 
cial-Revolutionaries of the extreme left wing. 



WHY BOLSHEVIKS GOT UPPER HAND 29 

The first two groups, in the process of the struggle 
which was now going on, fell victims of their modera- 
tion — and also of their internal contradictions. The 
third group — the Bolshevist — was much more consist- 
ent with itself, and much more accessible for the popu- 
lar understanding, and it finally won the game. 

What were the contradictions under which the Duma 
groups labored? In the first place, there was the con- 
tradiction between the great reputation the Duma en- 
joyed in the country, — and which made it play a prom- 
inent part at the beginning of the Revolution, — and 
its real political insignificance. The fourth Duma 
was elected in 1912 under a very strong electoral 
pressure of the Government, whose aim was to form 
a majority ready to restore autocracy. This aim was 
not attained, and the Duma had no governmental 
majority. But at the same it did not have 
any other majority. The reputation for liberalism was 
won by the opposition minority alone and it did not 
correspond to the general spirit of the House. The 
Duma as a whole was thus unable to lead the Revolu- 
tion. At the moment of the revolutionary outbreak, 
on that very day of March 11, — and without any con- 
nection whatever with the Revolution, — the Duma was 
prorogued by order of the Tsar. Contrary to the ac- 
cepted legend, the Duma never intended to stay. It 
obeyed the order. The Duma's Committee, which had 
been selected on that day and which a couple of days 
later nominated the first Provisional Government, had 
not been chosen at a formal meeting of the Duma, act- 
ing as an institution. The election took place at an 
informal meeting which met privately in a room con- 
tiguous to the "White Hall" of regular sessions. Thus, 
the Provisional Government took its sanction not from 



30 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

any legal authority of pre-Revolutionary times, but 
from Revolution. In a certain sense, this strengthened 
its power while it was functioning. But it also made it 
dependent on other manifestations, however irregular, 
of the "popular will." The Duma itself ceased to exist, 
as a political agent, from the moment of its proroga- 
tion. Its members did not resign their mandates, 
which expired in due time, in the autumn of 1917; 
but they only held a few private meetings, and their 
written declaration had no influence on the events. 

After the disappearance of the Duma, the only 
"bourgeois" party which continued to exist was the 
Party of the People's Freedom (Constitutional-Demo- 
crats or Cadets). The Party was democratic and had 
its following among the burgesses and the peasants in 
Northeastern Russia (free from the institution of serf- 
dom, which in other parts of Russia was abolished 
only in 1861). But, as a matter of fact, no real demo- 
cratic party could possibly exist in Russia under the 
sham constitutional regime of 1907-1917. All requi- 
sites for organizing the masses were lacking. Autocracy 
is thus greatly responsible for the absence of good 
political guidance, and, as a result, for the chaotic and 
elemental development of the revolutionary process. 
All political parties, either bourgeois or socialistic were 
equally handicapped in their attempts to reach and to 
instruct the popular masses. The Constitutional- 
Democratic Party (which declared itself Republican in 
May, 1917) was chiefly composed of intellectuals and 
enjoyed great moral authority. Most of the "bour- 
geois" ministers of the four provisional Governments 
between March and November belonged to that Party. 
They worked in a coalition with moderate socialists — 
especially, the agrarian socialists (Social-Revolution- 



WHY BOLSHEVIKS GOT UPPER HAND 31 

aries). Of course, there was nothing "counter-revolu- 
tionary" about them. But the masses which now were 
coming to the forefront did not know them. They con- 
founded them with other "bourgeois" groups of the 
Duma and were quite prepared to believe extremist 
demagogues who called them "capitalists" and "im- 
perialists." The very fact of their participation in the 
revolutionary Cabinets was sufficient to discredit the 
Government in the eyes of the masses. 

But there were other reasons which made the task 
of the demagogues still easier. The "Cadets" wanted 
the great changes in the social and political life of Rus- 
sia which were looked for by the masses to be enacted 
in a legal way, by regular legislation passed by a 
legally summoned Constituent Assembly. It was, 
however, not easy to prepare for elections on the new 
basis of universal suffrage in such a country as Russia. 
The "Cadets" found it necessary, for technical as well 
as for political reasons, to postpone general elections 
until local elections for new democratic organs of pro- 
vincial self-government (the renewed "Zemstvos") 
had taken place on the same principle of universal suf- 
frage. This was the only way to secure the controlling 
machine for really free and democratic elections. But 
under the conditions of growing mistrust and excite- 
ment, on the basis of social hatred fomented by the 
demagogues, it was really dangerous thus to postpone 
the session of the Constituent Assembly. The masses 
were unwilling to wait for its decisions on such capital 
questions as agrarian reform, or workingmen's control 
of factories. The revolutionary groups did not want to 
wait for the Constituent Assembly to decide upon the 
form of Government. It was easy to declare "counter- 
revolutionary" every one who was suspected of desiring 



32 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

the postponement of such decisions. And it was a mis- 
take on the part of the moderate groups not to pay 
enough attention to the consequences of their con- 
scientious but dilatory methods. 

I do not know whether I must call a "mistake" an- 
other feature of moderate tactics, which proved still 
more dangerous. I mean their views on War and For- 
eign Politics. They wanted the war to be carried to 
the end in agreement with the Allies. They thought 
it dishonest and mean to think of separate peace, and 
they knew that they were unable to persuade the 
Allies to conclude a "peace without victory." This 
proved to be the weakest point in the program of the 
Provisional Governments. Russia was reaching the 
limit of weariness and exhaustion. Even before the 
Revolution the Army had become impatient and un- 
willing to fight any longer. After the Revolution a 
new incentive was added for the soldiers to go back to 
their homes as soon as they could. Rumor had it that 
partition of the land was to be the first result of a 
democratic and really popular revolution. The soldier 
— who was also a peasant — would not wait for the solu- 
tion of his special problem, not only until the* Constitu- 
tional Assembly met; he would not wait at all, 
fearing lest his neighbor in the village return first 
and profit by his absence in order to take the best* lots 
and more than his share. At any cost, he had to be 
back for the moment of partition — a moment longed 
for by so many generations of his ancestors. 

To be sure, it meant expecting too much from the 
degree of civic education of the Russian peasant — to 
ask him first to fight on to the bitter end, with the risk 
of being killed, and then to await the decision of a 
Constituent Assembly on that momentous question of 



WHY BOLSHEVIKS GOT UPPER HAND 33 

land. He readily believed his "true" friends who told 
him to stop fighting, because it was the French and 
British "capitalists" and "imperialists" who wanted 
him to shed Russian blood for their colonies. From the 
other side of the front he heard the same thing re- 
peated by Russian newspapers printed in Berlin and 
smuggled into the Russian trenches. German soldiers 
in front of him treated him to Russian "vodka" and 
German "schnaps," and they invited him to fraternize 
and to make peace directly, at that very point of the 
front, and then go home instead of allowing himself 
to be shot at the very moment when the long expected 
lot of land was waiting for him in his village. 

On the contrary, the "capitalist" and "bourgeois" 
ministers declared themselves faithful to the Allied 
agreements and forced him to fight on. He now knew 
who were his friends and his enemies, how to choose 
between them and whom to follow. 

Before I speak of the attitude of the second group of 
moderate socialists, let us look at the other pole of 
Russian political life: that third group of Russian ex- 
tremists who were ready to make use of this state of 
mind of the Russian soldier, which they had long be- 
fore foreseen. Since 1905 and 1906 — the years of the 
first Russian Revolution — they were always on the 
alert for some new war to come, in order to repeat their 
experiment that had failed. International socialism 
was then planning a universal international strike in 
the event of a declaration of war. Such also were the 
decisions of the international congresses at Stuttgart, 
in 1907, and at Basel, in 1912. But there was a small 
group of revolutionary internationalists which decided 
to go further than this. This group included Russian 
revolutionaries who had fled from Russia after the 



34 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

failure of their first attempt to revolutionize Russia: 
both Lenin and Trotsky. Lenin's personal view was 
that the "revolutionary vanguard" which was generally 
expected to abolish the State in order to promote com- 
munism, had rather preserve State institutions and use 
them as a ready weapon of violence and repression. 
Instead of resorting to problematic strikes, Lenin's 
scheme was to immediately take the State power in 
the hands of the proletariat and to hasten the advent 
of socialism by means of the State machinery. 

War was included in that scheme, not as an inci- 
dental agent, but as its necessary component part. Ac- 
cording to the doctrine, war was sure to come, as a 
consequence of the normal working of the capitalist 
system. War had to create what they called a "revo- 
. lutionary situation." It remained for the socialists to 
make use of that revolutionary situation in order to 
transform war in the trenches, between the states, into 
international civil war between the classes. 

At the very beginning of the World War, in 1914, this 
scheme was formally discussed in Lenin's Swiss organ, 
The Social-Democrat. At the same time Trotsky 
and Martov, in Paris, took part in similar discussions 
of a small circle which met every evening at a small 
shop called "Librairie du Travail." All the future 
leaders of French extremism were there: Monetae, 
Guilbeaux, Rosmer, the poet Martinet, Merrheim. The 
group felt rather isolated amidst the first outbreaks of 
national feeling, which found its political expression in 
the "Sacred Union" of the socialists with the bourgeois 
parties. But they were very proud of having remained 
faithful to the pure doctrine in the midst of the col- 
lapse of the "Second International." "A kind of grim 
satisfaction remained to us," one of them said, "to be 



WHY BOLSHEVIKS GOT UPPER HAND 35 

the first men in Paris who belonged to a future Inter- 
national ... At this small hearth the spark of Zim- 
merwald was kindled." 

And, indeed, this was the modest beginning of the 
Third International of Moscow. Not only such "so- 
cial patriots" as voted military credits and entered 
war cabinets were severely denounced by the new cur- 
rent, even people like Kautsky — the so-called "cen- 
ter" — were branded as traitors to the cause of social- 
ism. A new International was to be formed only of 
such groups — however small — as would follow the lead 
of Lenin and obey his orders. 

Thus, Lenin knew perfectly well what he was out 
for when he first came to Russia through Germany in 
April, 1917. He was probably one of the few to know 
it and to have in his mind a cut and dried scheme of 
what was to be accomplished with the aid of the Rus- 
sian Revolution. 

Let us now come back to the second, the intermediate 
group between the "bourgeois" and the extremist. 
Clearness of view was not exactly its distinctive fea- 
ture. This intermediate current was composed of two 
moderate socialist groups: chiefly of the Social-Revo- 
lutionaries, whose spokesman was Kerensky, andfof the 
Social-Democrats (Mensheviks), led by the Georgian 
Deputy Tsereteli. They knew and openly admitted 
that a socialist society could not evolve from the revo- 
lutionary movement. They agreed that the only aim 
realizable for the moment, was a stabilized democracy 
in the form of a bourgeois Republic. On this funda- 
mental point they shared the opinion «of the bourgeois 
parties. That is why up to the end they wished — and 
they succeeded — to retain the power in the hands of a 
coalition of moderate socialist and advanced bourgeois 



36 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

parties. But, on the other hand, they were unable to 
break definitely with their extremist fellow-socialists, 
and at all crucial moments they felt themselves closer 
to them than to their "Cadet" colleagues. From the 
very beginning of the Revolution they fell under the 
influence of the extremist slogans — sometimes even 
without knowing their real purport. For example, they 
called themselves Zimmerwaldians. But they by no 
means were willing to join in the aim of transforming 
the war in the trenches into a civil war. They wanted 
an immediate peace to come, and they severely criti- 
cized the "imperialist" aims of the "capitalist" Allied 
Governments. At the same time they ranged them- 
selves with the "socialist patriotic" ministers of the 
Allied cabinets, like Albert Thomas, and they even were 
induced by the latter to "persuade" the demoralized 
Russian army to start on an offensive. 

Again, they did not wish to give "all power to the 
Soviets," which was then the Bolshevist slogan. But, 
on the other hand, they had to recognize themselves 
responsible before the Soviets, as revolutionary organs, 
where their parties were represented. They thus con- 
tributed to the weakening of the Provisional Govern- 
ments of which they were members. They claimed to 
belong to the "revolutionary democracy" — a vague 
term which embraced such groups as were considered 
true to the Revolution. At the same time, they were 
brought to search for allies in the "bourgeois" ranks, 
which were considered by that same "revolutionary de- 
mocracy" as being hopelessly "counter-revolutionary." 
They relied upon the Constituent Assembly to decide 
all fundamental questions put forward by the process 
of Revolution. On the other hand, they obediently 
followed in the trail of events which anticipated these 



WHY BOLSHEVIKS GOT UPPER HAND 37 

decisions. They thus officially proclaimed Russia a 
Republic, and they largely contributed — in a semi- 
official way — to the passage of the landed estates from 
the nobles to the peasants by encouraging a matter-of- 
fact expropriation which was covered by the euphemis- 
tic term "creating new revolutionary law by the peo- 
ple." 

The extremists made ample use of all these inconsist- 
encies and contradictions. The moderate socialists pre- 
tended to speak and to act in the name of the people. 
Their extremist opponents appealed directly to the 
masses. They accused the moderate socialists of mak- 
ing common cause with the "bourgeoisie" and the 
"capitalists." It was enough for a socialist minister 
to talk reason and common sense, to be accused of trea- 
son towards the people. Irresponsible critics were free 
to make unrealizable promises and thus to outbid their 
ministerial colleagues. Very soon the moderate social- 
ists began to realize the success of the Bolshevist dem- 
agogy by increasing defections from their own ranks. 
Gradually they lost ground in the Soviets and the Com- 
mittees of the Petrograd workingmen and soldiers. 
They had to retreat, and they transferred their head- 
quarters to the Executive Committee of the All-Rus- 
sian Conference of the Soviets, where provincial groups 
which had remained more moderate than the popula- 
tion of the capital city were represented. But the 
enemy found his way even there, and, as a last refuge, 
the moderate socialists resorted to a selection of pro- 
vincial deputies from the newly created democratic 
Zemstvos and Municipalities. This was the so-called 
"Democratic Conference," which also proved vacillat- 
ing and uncertain. 

The socialist retreat was keenly observed by the ex- 



38 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

tremists, who were soon encouraged to try decisive 
blows. As early as mid-July, 1917, they made their 
first attempt at an uprising in Petrograd. It failed 
owing to the help which the moderate socialists re- 
ceived from the army detachments, speedily sent from 
the front. But then it became clear that the final de- 
cision lay with the army, and not with representative 
assemblies which served as a substitute for the Con- 
stituent Assembly. The Bolsheviks paid special at- 
tention to and made efforts to win, the Petrograd gar- 
rison, while at the same time the moderate socialists 
quarrelled with the army. Thenceforth their fate and 
the fate of moderate revolution was sealed. 

For the soldiers Kerensky, the War Minister, was an 
"imperialist" who forced them to shed their blood for 
the Allies, And they answered his attempts to lead 
them against the enemy with a disgraceful retreat. On 
the other hand, for the officers Kerensky was a weak- 
ling and a Utopian who precluded the possibility of 
creating a strong revolutionary power and thus im- 
periled the further existence of the Russian State. 
They wanted a dictator, and they found their dictator 
in the person of General Kornilov. Non-socialist 
groups, which saw the approaching danger of a final 
blow by the extremists, also wished to prevent it with 
the aid of the sound elements of the army. They un- 
derstood only too well that the danger was not to be 
conjured away by mere speeches and resolutions. 
Under certain conditions! — the first and the most im- 
portant was to make common front against the ex- 
tremists^ — the Revolution might still have been saved 
from its own excesses. The choice was free for a time 
between Kornilov and Lenin. Unfortunately, no com- 
mon front proved to be possible from Kerensky to 



WHY BOLSHEVIKS GOT UPPER HAND 39 

Kornilov, and by a sort of subconscious instinct the 
masses — because it was thef masses that decided — 
chose Lenin. 

The Kornilov movement, which wound up in an in- 
surrection against the Government, for the first time 
revealed the existence of the real counter-revolutionary 
groups. A movement which could only win as a na- 
tional movement, took the shape of a secret conspir- 
acy led by adventurous personalities and backed by 
certain reactionary organizations. As a result, the 
story of Lafayette and Dumouriez repeated itself in 
Russia. Kornilov's attempt was finally repudiated 
even by his adherents and sympathizers. Instead of 
strengthening the Revolutionary power, it weakened 
the central non-socialist groups, isolated the Govern- 
ment and paved the way for the Bolshevist coup 
d'etat. 

The Bolsheviks now prepared quite openly for a 
new stroke, in the face of a passive Government. At 
the decisive moment, there were found only some hun- 
dreds of young men from military schools and women 
of the patriotic "shock" battalion, to defend the min- 
isters in the Winter Palace. Then generals at the 
front refused their help to Kerensky and 500 Cossacks 
of General Krasnov tried in vain to bring him back 
to Petrograd. Everybody else kept quiet and the Bol- 
sheviks won an easy victory. 

However, a victory in Petrograd did not yet mean 
the victory in Russia. The real sanction of the Bol- 
shevist coup lay in the fact that Bolshevism at the 
moment of its victory practically met with no resist- 
ance, with the exception of a few days' fighting in 
Moscow and the opposition it met with in the land of 
the Don Cossacks, in Southeastern Russia. The 



40 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

leaders of the army, partly the same men who readily 
acknowledged the March Revolution, after a few mo- 
ments of hesitation declared themselves on the side of 
the Bolsheviks. Of course, they were forced to do so 
through fear of being killed by their soldiers. But, at 
the same time, they somehow felt satisfied to see 
Kornilov's defeat avenged. Many of them thought 
that the Bolshevist regime would not last long and the 
time would soon come to settle their accounts with the 
Russian Revolution in general. The real counter- 
revolutionary elements thus detached themselves from 
the "bourgeois" democracy at the very moment when 
this democracy was forced to yield to the tyranny of 
a few. It was not the first time that the two ex- 
tremes, the Red and the Black, came together and 
seemed better to understand each other than their op- 
ponents from the moderate center. Mr. Lenin is said 
to have often repeated, that in the event of being forced 
to go, he would rather surrender to restored autocracy 
than to a bourgeois republic, i.e., to stabilized democ- 
racy. 

Our explanation of such conditions in Russia as made 
the Bolshevist victory unavoidable would not be com- 
plete should we fail to mention the internal situation 
in Russia, created by war and revolution. Russia was 
made ripe for the Bolshevist domination by its process 
of internal dissolution, which preceded the Bolshevist 
coup. I shall not dwell on the state of general exhaus- 
tion and slackening of moral and civil discipline, which 
is an outstanding feature of the post-war situation in 
all the belligerent countries. Let us rather have a look 
at the specifically Russian phenomena created by the 
Revolution. 

This internal dissolution reflected itself first in the 



WHY BOLSHEVIKS GOT UPPER HAND 41 

complete destruction of all pre-revolutionary authori- 
ties. From the very first days of the March Revolu- 
tion all functionaries of the former Tsarist administra- 
tion simply disappeared, beginning with the upper 
ranks and down to the lowest. An attempt was made 
by Prince Lvov, the Premier and Minister of the In- 
terior, to let the men from the Zemstvos take the 
places of these functionaries. But during the last pe- 
riod of the self-defense of the autocracy, the composi- 
tion of these organs of Russian self-government had 
very much deteriorated, especially after the reaction- 
ary electoral reform of 1890, which gave all power to 
the local squires. From then on, the masses had not 
made much distinction between the Zemstvo men and 
the Tsar's officials: to them they were equally bad, and 
sometimes even worse than bureaucrats. That is why, 
this new personnel of the local administrations had 
very soon to yield to the "Soviets" or other self-ap- 
pointed organs of the "revolutionary democracy," 
whose composition and functions were matters of their 
own choice. 

They were like as many small republics, each acting 
at their own will. Unity of direction was completely 
lacking. The direct result was that the whole machin- 
ery of communications broke down at once, and it im- 
mediately reflected itself in the regularity of supplying 
the army at the front, which even before that time had 
been far from being in good order. Very soon the 
cities and towns also began to suffer from a shortage of 
food. Cases of real famine began to appear. The only 
resource left was to send special committees to the 
grain- and cattle-exporting provinces of Russia, in 
order to buy food at the source. Private persons fol- 
lowed the lead of public institutions, and soon all 



42 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

trains were packed beyond their utmost capacity with 
a new type of passengers, nicknamed "sack-bearers" and 
"speculators." 

But this was only a prelude. The real disaster broke 
out when soldiers began to desert from the front. It 
had always been a puzzle to the military authorities 
how to demobilize these millions of peasants without 
destroying communications and endangering the peace 
and order of the local population. Now a matter-of- 
fact demobilization began without any general scheme 
or measures of precaution. The deserters went in 
crowds. They took possession of trains, evicted regu- 
lar passengers, traveled on roofs and platforms, 
forced railway officials under menace of death to break 
all traffic regulations, with the greatest danger for 
themselves. Or they went on foot in bands, ravaging 
and destroying everything on their way. Very often 
they chose for the objects of their raids stores of al- 
cohol, preserved from the pre-war State monoply. They 
then joined hands with the peasants, and helped them 
to burn their landowners' country houses and farms, to 
ransack their property, to partition their land. In 
the towns they helped the throng to break shops and 
seize stores of food, to search houses of well-to-do peo- 
ple or of some suspected "bourgeois." Now and then 
such incursions took the form of anti-Semitic pogroms. 

The workingmen, the "proletarians," did not stay 
in the background. They claimed their share of profit 
from the democratic revolution. As a result of the 
"military socialism" created by the War in Russia, as 
elsewhere, the workingmen were accustomed to high 
wages based on Government orders for munitions and 
other products of new or increased war industry. They 
claimed in wages more than they produced in manu- 



WHY BOLSHEVIKS GOT UPPER HAND 43 

factured goods. The State had to pay for everything. 
The proprietors of concerns were remunerated with 
new orders paid in advance in increased prices. The 
village also grew rich with paper money, printed and 
paid in abundance for agricultural products. 

All this apparent prosperity was based on an emer- 
gency budget. Extraordinary income (from loans and 
other operations of credit) surpassed by far ordinary 
receipts from taxes, which were paid most irregu- 
larly. The population thus grew accustomed to living 
at the expense of the State. That kind of "State So- 
cialism" served as a suitable introduction to the Bol- 
shevist fantastic finance. Along with the Allied loans, 
the printing press was already being used in steadily 
increasing figures. The inflated currency reflected itself 
immediately in the rise of prices, which in its turn was 
responsible for new claims for increased wages and new 
subsidies. 

In a word, at the moment when the Bolshevist coup 
d'etat took place, in November, 1921, Russia was ready 
for Bolshevism. The situation was so bad that, in 
everybody's opinion, it could not be made worse by 
any new change. On the contrary, a change was looked 
for by the population as a chance for improvement. 

We now can understand why a sort of sanction was 
given to the Bolshevist coup d'etat in Petrograd by the 
passive attitude of a suffering population. A young 
shepherd found using his landlord's field as a pasture 
for the village cattle, summed up the state of affairs in 
a brief saying. He was asked by his landlord's man- 
ager, why he permitted himself to trespass on other peo- 
ple's property. "Well," he answered, "we now have 
equal rights" ("teper ravnopraviye"). He evidently 
understood it in the sense of J. J. Rousseau's primitive 



44 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

state of nature. Ancient law was abolished by the new 
right of Revolution. No new law was there to take 
its place, and no legal authority was present to enact 
that new law. "Equal rights" were to last until a new 
social compact was entered into by the community and 
a new social will was created. 

Let us now see what was that new social compact, 
proposed by the Communist Party as the last word 
of Social Science. 



CHAPTER III. 

THE BOLSHEVIST REGIME. 

I have come to a subject which is much more in dis- 
pute than anything I spoke of in my first two chapters. 
The Bolshevist regime has been so often described by 
eye-witnesses from different and even opposite view- 
points, that the general public has gone astray and does 
not know whom and what to believe. People have had 
to choose between severe exposures of Bolshevism by 
observers who were by some suspected of "counter- 
revolutionary" and reactionary tendencies, and glowing 
pictures of a new life for a regenerated humanity, 
largely spread by the Bolshevist propagandists. 

However, as time went on, the real facts in the situa- 
tion had to take the place of gloomy forebodings or 
brilliant prospectives. During its four years of exist- 
ence, the Bolshevist regime has had every chance to 
assert itself and to carry the social experiment, unique 
in the history of mankind, up to its last consequences. 
We now have that chapter of the story almost complete. 
We can trace Bolshevism from its origin, through its 
development, to its decline, which is now recognized 
by the Bolsheviks themselves. They would tell you, 
of course, that this is not yet the end, but only a re- 
spite, after which the experiment shall be renewed 
under better conditions. You may agree or disagree 
with this new prediction. But there can be no more 
doubt as to the past. 

45 



46 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

Let us now study Bolshevism in its past, as a living 
reality, not as a "promised land." I purposely use 
the word ''Bolshevism" and not "'communism.'' 
which is what Mr. Lenin wished his experiment 
to be called. '' Communism"' is an international doc- 
trine; "Bolshevism"' is a Russian achievement. The 
Russian peasants noted that distinction very well, 
as shown by their war cry: "Long live Bolshe- 
vism, but down with communism." They knew 
that "Bolshevism" was giving them the land, while 
"communism" wished to take that land back for col- 
lective use. They were for a time satisfied with the 
Bolsheviks' policy, but they loathed their Utopian doc- 
trine. 

The Bolshevist leaders also realized that difference 
perfectly well. As I have said before, they never ex- 
pected to make Russia "communist." They were too 
clever for that and they knew their country too well. 
"Communism" was reserved for the next stage — that of 
world revolution, and for more advanced industrial 
countries. In Russia they were satisfied to remain Bol- 
shevist, in order to keep in power until that second 
stage should come, and to use Russia's enormous re- 
sources and state machinery in order to hasten the ad- 
vent of that World Revolution. This also explains why 
these uncompromising fanatics of doctrine were always 
ready — not only now — for any compromise necessary 
to keep them in power in Russia. ''Communism" was 
for the World. For Russia a "preparatory stage"' was 
quite sufficient. 

You will never understand Bolshevism unless you 
look at it in the light of this commentary. But I must 
show you that this commentary is not my own. This 
is practically the mam point of Lenin's special teaching. 



THE BOLSHEVIST REGIME 47 

This is where he goes further in his tactics than his 
predecessors, the revolutionary syndicalists and the 
revolutionary socialists of the second decade of the 
XX Century. 

It was also always the main point of difference be- 
tween Lenin and his Russian fellow-socialists. They 
taught that socialism was to come automatically, by 
itself, as a result of the gradual economic growth of 
capitalism. Lenin opposed to these "economist" fol- 
lowers of Marx the political and the revolutionary side 
of Marx's and Engels' doctrine. According to him, po- 
litical revolution alone was able to accelerate the ad- 
vent of socialism. To the usual arguments that the 
working masses were not prepared to make use of a 
political revolution for introducing socialism, Lenin 
found a ready answer in George Sorel's new doctrine 
of "violence." You need not wait long enough to get 
the masses quite prepared for socialism. Just take 
the lead now, directly, and start the attack with a few 
people who are already conscious of their class interests 
and who are prepared to act. There is nothing like ac- 
tion; action for the action's sake; "violence" practiced 
by a small vanguard of daring adventurers, in order to 
keep alive the revolutionary spirit in the masses left 
behind. Let us go out for direct action, whatever be 
the momentary practical result of it. This was the so- 
called "catastrophic conception" of the advent of so- 
cialism. Lenin accepted it but he proved much more 
consistent than the originators of that doctrine. Sorel 
and his friends thought it would be an international 
and general political strike which would bring about 
the dawn of socialism. But the political strike was 
long in coming, and Sorel himself called a "social 
myth," an object of faith rather than a practical scheme 



48 RUSSIA TO-DAY -AND TO-MORROW 

to be realized at once. Lenin was too impatient to be 
satisfied with that indefinite upkeep of revolutionary 
spirit. He wanted his action now, to attain a definite 
purpose. Of course, he was also forced to adapt his 
program to the vicissitudes of the "revolutionary situa- 
tion." In 1901 and even in 1905 he did not expect his 
political revolution to realize any other immediate re- 
sult aside from building in Russia a bourgeois demo- 
cratic republic. He declared himself, accordingly, ready 
to fight at the side of the bourgeois politicians and 
to enter a coalition government formed after the revolu- 
tionary success. It was at that stage that I personally 
came to know Lenin — a stubborn debater and a slow- 
thinking scholar as I found him to be. In 1917 his 
ambitions had grown immensely. He still thought that 
nothing beyond a preliminary stage to a socialist mil- 
lennium could be achieved by a revolutionary over- 
throw. He knew and he often repeated that a revolu- 
tion in Russia would stand and fall with a revolution 
in Europe, as no "communist" State could exist in the 
midst of a capitalistic world. But he seemed to earn- 
estly believe that the more advanced capitalistic States 
of Western Europe were now ripe for a social revolution 
and that if only Russia would take the lead, a world 
revolution would follow directly. The Red Press in 
Bolshevist Russia had for years been spreading news 
about some revolutionary outbreak in Berlin, or in 
London, or in Paris. I think the first psychological 
shock which Lenin received on the subject came when 
half-confidently, half -mockingly, he asked Mr. H. G. 
Wells, while the latter was in Petrograd, just why the 
revolution in England was so slow in coming, and the 
skeptical Epicurean laughed in his face, telling him 
how things really stood. But even then he was not 



THE BOLSHEVIST REGIME 49 

quite disillusioned, as shown by his famous twenty- 
one points — or rather orders — to his fellow-communists 
all over the world, to stand aloof from all traitors to the 
cause of the socialist world-revolution and to keep their 
powder dry. Whatever be the case with Lenin's ideal- 
ism, so far as other countries are concerned, his realistic 
view of the situation in Russia is very well proven by 
his tactics. He might well build his castles in the air 
elsewhere, but in Russia he wanted them to be built on 
the solid rock of old, good autocratic tradition. This 
was another, the "Bolshevist" side of Lenin's "com- 
munism," and these are the moorings on which the Bol- 
shevist regime was to be fastened. 

It would be a mistake to think that Lenin's conces- 
sions to reality are due to his recent disappointments. 
They lie at the very root of his tactics. Just before 
his triumph in Russia, in August and September, 1917, 
Lenin wrote a book, "The State and Revolution," 
wherein his political realism is shown at its best. Let 
us stop a moment at that other side of the picture. 

Says Lenin: "The State, according to Marx" (he 
will always tell you that he is the only true interpreter 
of Marx's doctrine), "is the organ of class domination, 
the organ of oppression of one class by another." Well, 
then, why not use that 'organ of oppression' for the 
benefit of another class, against the 'oppressors'? 
"The advance-guard of the proletariat, capable of as- 
suming the power and leading the whole community to 
socialism needs the State, the centralized organization 
of force and violence, both for the purpose of crushing 
the resistance of the exploiters and for the purpose of 
guiding the great mass of the population." To be sure,, 
this view of the State precludes any "sentimental" ap- 
plication to political life of the ideas of democracy and 



50 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

freedom. This is just not political life, but political 
struggle, and the State is only needed as a temporary 
instrument of struggle. "We are not Utopians," Mr. 
Lenin proudly asserts. "We want the Socialist Revolu- 
tion with human nature as it is now. Human nature 
itself cannot do without subordination. . . . There 
must be submission to the armed (the 'conscious' van- 
guard is bound to be 'armed') vanguard" . . . until 
the "people will grow accustomed to observing the ele- 
mentary conditions of social existence without force 
and without subjection." This period will be very long 
indeed, as you see, as long as human nature will not 
change from what "it is now." In the meanwhile, the 
consequence is quite clear. "As the State is only a 
transitional institution which we are obliged to use 
in the revolutionary struggle in order to forcibly crush 
our opponents, it is a pure absurdity to speak of a Free 
People's State. During the period when the proletariat 
still needs the State, it does not require it in the in- 
terests of freedom, but in the interests of crushing its 
antagonists." To "crush the antagonists," — this is the 
principal aim of the "proletarian dictatorship," an aim 
to be attained at any cost. The program of using up 
the State machinery in the first line is not constructive, 
but merely destructive. 

However, before crushing antagonists, you must win 
followers and adherents. What cannot be done by fear 
and terrorism must be attained by promises and con- 
cessions. And, again, promises and concessions have 
nothing to do with the realization of the "communist" 
doctrine. But they have very much to do with coming 
into power and keeping themselves in power. 

We know that the Bolsheviks owe their initial suc- 
cess to their wanton demagogy. Once in power, they 



THE BOLSHEVIST REGIME 51 

had to fulfil their promises. They had to immediately 
grant every social group whose support they wanted 
everything that group wished, — and to give it in the 
most palpable form. They did it very adroitly, and 
they did not stop to think whether it was "commun- 
ist" or not. 

Peace to the Army, land to the peasants, control of 
the factories to the workmen. Peace, land and control 
were also promised by their antagonists. But the army 
had to wait for the Allies' decision to make peace. The 
peasant had to wait for the decision of the Constituent 
Assembly, to take the land. The workmen had to share 
their control with the State authorities. Then came 
the Bolsheviks who said, in the crudest form possible: 
"Take it now." To the soldiers they said, in substance, 
in their Decree of November 10, 1917: "Just meet the 
Germans at any place on the front and conclude the 
armistice on your own account." To the peasants they 
said, in their Decree of November 7: "Do not wait 
for the Constituent Assembly to decide; realize im- 
mediately what you had decided at the Peasants' Con- 
gress in June." To the workingmen they said, in their 
Decree of November 14: "Just go to the owners and 
to the managers of this, your factory and tell them that 
you are given the right to run the concern." The im- 
mediate result was that the soldiers, peasants and work- 
men were introduced to Bolshevism under its most 
agreeable form and recognized the Bolshevist govern- 
ment as representing their own interests. 

This result was also foreseen by Lenin. There exists 
another pamphlet of his, written at the same time as 
the one quoted, and published under a very character- 
istic title: "Will the Bolshevist Power (they had not 
yet taken possession of the power) Be Lasting?" Le- 



52 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

nin's point was that the looked-for Bolshevist victory 
could not be otherwise than lasting, because it was to 
be the victory of the rank and file, and everybody had 
to be made to understand just what his personal share 
in the victory was. "Well," he said, "under this condi- 
tion, we shall have at once millions and tens of millions 
of defenders." Among other methods proposed, he then 
promised the lower social strata in Petrograd that they 
would be put in the houses and apartments of the rich 
bourgeoisie, who were to be directly evicted or confined 
to single rooms. That also was not new and not at 
all invented by Lenin himself. It is at the same time 
interesting to note that such methods of "unlawful di- 
rect action" met with opposition in advance, on the 
part of the socialists themselves. I may quote from 
a letter addressed to America by the German socialist 
leader and thinker, Kautsky — Lenin's worst enemy — 
as early as 1912, in which Kautsky said: "To preach 
individual struggle against property means to turn the 
interest of the workers from mass action to individual 
action," which is contrary "to the moral ideas of the 
masses" and "will repel them and injure the propa- 
ganda of socialism seriously." But this was just what 
Lenin was doing. 

Promises and intimidation, intimidation and prom- 
ises : we will often have to come back to these alternate 
tactics of that Janus of Russian Bolshevism. You may 
also take it as a provisional answer to the question as 
to why the Bolsheviks have lasted so long in power. 
The provisional answer is: they came to power by 
promises; they have kept in power by fear. 

But is that all? Did they not do or try anything in 
order to introduce some kind of communism in Russia? 

They certainly did. Of course, not at once, because 



THE BOLSHEVIST REGIME 53 

for the first weeks and months after their victory they 
were busy "crushing their opponents." To remain 
alone in the field, they had to disperse competing politi- 
cal parties and dissolve institutions which claimed to 
represent democracy. On November 17, i. e., ten days 
after their victory, they dissolved the democratic Muni- 
cipality of Petrograd. On January 6, 1918, they dis- 
solved a much more important institution: the first 
Russian Constituent Assembly, which had been the ob- 
ject of the struggles and hopes, the symbol of the Peo- 
ple's sovereignty for so many generations of Russian 
Revolutionaries. They did not wish to hear about 
universal suffrage, another object of revolutionary creed 
of former generations. For a revolutionary ear in Rus- 
sia it sounded like blasphemy. But the Bolsheviks 
sneered at intellectual superstitions. They had noth- 
ing to do with parliamentary institutions and political 
democracy. 

As soon as they overcame their first difficulties, the 
Bolsheviks began publishing "communist" decrees. 
They did not yet know whether they would remain in 
power. But so much the more important was it for 
them to leave traces of their communist legislation. 
However, here they immediately met with a serious ob- 
stacle. The State they took possession of was, as we 
have seen, disintegrating. The Russian economy, 
which was supposed to represent a high stage of capital- 
ism, to be directly transformed into communism, was 
thoroughly ruined. Even if the Bolsheviks really 
wished to introduce communism otherwise than on 
paper, they were face to face with the necessity of re- 
constructing the administrative machine and restoring 
the sources of production. 

But these were contradictory and conflicting designs. 



54 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

To strengthen their State power meant to postpone 
or to renounce communist experiments. To try com- 
munist experiments in earnest — meant to lose their 
political power. It was quite clear from the beginning 
that in the event of being obliged to choose between the 
two, they would sacrifice their idealistic aim to their 
realistic tactics: communism to Bolshevism. Let us 
now trace these two lines of their political conduct. 
You can guess in advance that, while the idealistic line 
of "communism" was extremely irresolute and un- 
steady, the realistic line of "Bolshevism" proved quite 
firm and straightforward. 

Lenin has told us himself what measure of commun- 
ism he found it possible to introduce at the transitional 
stage between capitalism and pure communism. This 
is how this "first or lower stage" of communist society 
is described in the terms of Marx'Moctrine. 

"The means of production are now (i. e., at that 
stage) no longer the private property of individuals. 
The means of production belong to the whole of so- 
ciety. Every member of society that performs a cer- 
tain part of socially-necessary labor, receives a certifi- 
cate from society that he has done such and such a 
quantity of work. According to this certificate, he re- 
ceives from the public stores of articles of consumption 
a corresponding quantity of products. After the de- 
duction of that proportion of labor which goes into 
the public fund, every worker, therefore, receives from 
society as much as he has given it." " 'He who -does 
not work, neither shall he eat' — this socialist principle 
is already realized (i. e., at that transitional stage)." 
" Tor an equal quantity of labor an equal quantity of 
products' — this socialist principle is also already real- 
ized. Nevertheless, this is not yet communism, and 



THE BOLSHEVIST REGIME 55 

this does not abolish 'bourgeois law/ which gives to 
unequal individuals in return for an unequal (in re- 
ality) amount of work, an unequal quantity of prod- 
ucts." "The State is withering away in so far as there 
are no longer any capitalists, any class whatever to sup- 
press. But the State is not dead altogether, since there 
still remains the protection of 'bourgeois law,' which 
sanctifies actual inequality. For the complete extinc- 
tion of the State — complete communism is necessary." 

"Incomplete communism" was thus to be immedi- 
ately attained. What has been done to introduce the 
"incomplete communism?" A brief resume of the 
salient facts will suffice. 

In April, 1918, Lenin was obliged to avow that the 
process was very slow. He now proposed to take cer- 
tain preliminary measures to "encircle" capital. Capi- 
tal — in Bolshevist Russia? Yes, that is so, Lenin 
stated that the organization of the proletariat was far 
from being accomplished. The methods resorted to 
"look much more like methods of conquest than like 
methods of regular administration." Even the books 
for controlling the obligatory labor had not yet been 
introduced. One must proceed slowly and gradually, 
verifying every step tentatively tried by practical re- 
sults." And indeed, the Bolsheviks proceeded very 
timidly. They did not at once attack the principle. 
They preferred to grapple with its consequences and 
thus to "encircle" the enemy. They recognized at once 
that to destroy the bourgeois regime was by far more 
difficult than to overthrow a bourgeois government. 

On the next day after their victory the Bolsheviks 
published two decrees. One of them disposed of big 
landed estates, which were to be handed over to local 
agrarian committees, "pending the decision of the 



56 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

Constituent Assembly." Another decree ordered the 
nationalization of banking institutions. The Bolshe- 
viks thus intended to immediately deal a severe blow to 
unmovable and to movable big property. But they did 
not abolish private property at all. On the contrary, 
they left untouched small landed property and per- 
mitted the drawing of small sums from current accounts 
in the banks (1500 rubles monthly). 

They proceeded with the same indecision in the ques- 
tion of workmen's control over the factories. They did 
not wish to nationalize the factories at once. In No- 
vember, 1918, Lenin said that "socialism cannot be 
introduced before the working class learns to lead and 
to assert its authority." He explained by that maxim, 
why the measures taken in the question just mentioned 
were "incomplete and contradictory." 

Neither did the Bolsheviks make up their mind to 
immediately abolish private commerce. When, in 
March, 1918, they were induced to nationalize com- 
merce, it was for a special reason. They were forced 
to organize the exchange between the villages and the 
cities, in order to secure regular feeding of the urban 
population. Already at that time the peasants were 
unwilling to sell their grain for paper money and asked 
for manufactured goods. The Bolsheviks were forced 
to make a step in the direction of the "incomplete com- 
munism." In order to revise and to fix local prices 
of articles, special committees were formed in every 
town with at least 10,000 population. The existing 
stocks of merchandise were registered. Trading in 
manufactured goods was put under control. Thus, step 
by step, they came, on October 8, 1918, to the final 
decision to nationalize all domestic trade. All shops, 
great and small likewise, were closed, and their contents 



THE BOLSHEVIST REGIME 57 

used for the exchange with the village. However, the 
cost of the confiscated goods was added to the current 
account of the owners in the National Bank, and some- 
times they were themselves permitted to run their en- 
terprises as officials of the State. 

Foreign trade was nationalized at an earlier date, on 
April 21, 1918, in connection with the signing of the 
Brest-Litovsk peace, and the commercial fleet was de- 
clared national property on February 8, 1918. 

It proved more difficult to nationalize the industries, 
just because of that system of control by the workmen 
which was conceded by the Bolsheviks directly after 
their victory. The control was individual, each fac- 
tory being run by its separate committee of workmen. 
The result was complete chaos. In some factories work- 
men's committees cooperated with the former adminis- 
tration and very eagerly defended the interests of pri- 
vate owners. In other cases, they themselves tried to 
play the part of owners. They everywhere increased 
their wages enormously, and they worked as long and 
as much as they pleased. Instead of the eight-hour 
day, which the Bolsheviks had inherited from the previ- 
ous revolutionary Governments, the working men re- 
mained in the factories for five or four hours of unpro- 
ductive work. 

We shall see in another chapter how the Bolsheviks 
contrived to enforce the new discipline in the factories. 
But they were also forced to change entirely the condi- 
tions of controlling the national production. Their 
leading idea was that industry was to be centralized 
in trusts. Each branch of production was to be organ- 
ized separately, as a preparatory stage for nationaliza- 
tion. Beginning with February, 1918, they proceeded 
to create "central" and "principal" boards for every 



58 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

branch. The number of "Centros" and "Principals" 
was 15 in March and 51 at the end of the year. The 
central boards had to provide the raw materials and 
fuel, to regulate the demand and the sale of goods, fix 
prices. The "Centros" gradually took the place of the 
workmen's committees. Subsequently, the leading role 
in the "Centros" themselves was transferred from gen- 
eral assemblies to boards of professionals. Compara- 
tively few of the workmen were permitted to serve in 
the boards. Their main personnel was composed of 
trained professional men or such intellectuals as were 
amenable to the Bolsheviks. 

The time had now come for complete nationalization 
of the factories. But the Bolsheviks still hesitated. 
Up to August 1, 1918, nationalization was used rather 
as a means to punish the refractory bourgeois owners 
and managers than to embark upon a serious social 
change, leading to communism. Only 567 enterprises 
were nationalized and 271 sequestrated. The decision 
arrived at on June 28, 1918, to nationalize all factories, 
is explained by an incidental motive. The commercial 
treaty with Germany was being negotiated in Berlin, 
and, according to the provisions of this treaty, State 
monopolies were to be left free from treaty dispositions. 
Mr. Larin, who conducted the negotiations, sent word 
to Petrograd on June 25, and three days later Russian 
industry in its entirety was declared to be a State mon- 
opoly. 

The explanation given in the Decree of June 28, to 
be sure, was a different one. The Bolsheviks wished 
"to put an end to the economic disorganization, to the 
disorder in the distribution of supplies, and to simplify 
the dictatorship of the workers and the paupers." At 
the end of 1919, 4,000 concerns with all their property 



THE BOLSHEVIST REGIME 59 

were declared to belong to the Communist Republic. 
The President of the National Economic Soviet, Mr. 
Rykov, stated that it was "all Russian industry.' ' 

However, according to the best authorities on the 
communist doctrine, it was not communism. It was 
"State capitalism." But further steps towards "in- 
complete" communism were in sight. 

Now that all industry and trade was in the hands of 
the State, it became not only possible, but even neces- 
sary at least to work out some general scheme of pro- 
duction and distribution of commodities, just as had 
been done in the different capitalistic countries in war 
time. A would-be communist State had to go just 
one step farther and abolish the bourgeois means of 
exchange: money. The Bolsheviks more than once 
promised to do it, but they never dared. How could 
they when paper money was their only means of exist- 
ence? They had to first build a new network of dis- 
tributive boards all over the country. And, indeed, a 
gorgeous scheme was prepared for the Commissariat of 
Supply to control the exchange and the distribution of 
commodities. At the end of 1919 the Bolsheviks de- 
cided to make use of the free cooperative societies, and 
in spite of a very strong opposition on the part of the 
cooperative societies, they gradually transformed them 
into State institutions, in order to make of them an 
integral part of their distribution system. The entire 
population was forced to enter the cooperatives and as 
early as 1919 Mr. Larin announced the great change to 
come soon. "The new organization," he said, "is now 
reaching the stage when it will be possible to put on 
the order of the day, as a piece of practical policy, the 
solution of the problem of 'naturalization' of salaries, 
i. e., paying working men's wages in commodities." 



60 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

In another chapter I shall tell you what the dismal 
reality was as compared with these self-confident asser- 
tions. As a matter of fact, the only measure really 
applied to regulating distribution was the extension of 
ration cards (which had been introduced in Russia, as 
elsewhere, during the war time) to all other commodi- 
ties. Under the Bolsheviks this system was diverted to 
serve purely demagogic aims. The urban population 
— who alone profited by the system of rationing — was 
divided into four categories, and the "parasitic" class, 
i. e., brain workers and "bourgeoisie" , were put in the 
fourth category. They were to receive the minimum 
of foodstuffs, a real "famine" ration. But gradually 
that was changed : a new selection was made from pro- 
fessional men who declared themselves willing to serve 
the Bolsheviks. The Soviet functionaries — a new Red 
bureaucracy — were transferred to a specially privileged 
category. At any rate, even the first category rations 
were quite insufficient. The Bolshevist statistics show 
that, e. g., in the winter season of 1919-1920 only 36% 
of foodstuffs (flour, bread, grain) was received by the 
urban population through the intermediary of govern- 
ment organs, while 64% had to be supplied by a 
clandestine free trade. It was still worse with the rank 
and file workmen who had to rely on other sources than 
their "natural" part of wages, for nine-tenths of their 
minimum consumption of food. 

However, even in that imperfect form, the Bolshevist 
system of production, distribution and consumption 
had to be based on a strongly increased State power. 
We know that the Bolsheviks inherited the Russian 
State institutions in an utter state of disintegration. 
The dissolution had spread as a result of their first 
concessions and promises. Every province, every dis- 



THE BOLSHEVIST REGIME 61 

trict, and here and there even cantons or villages now 
acted as independent republics. Local "soviets" took 
the place of the former — also irregular — organs of self- 
government, and of the newly elected democratic Zem- 
stvos. Here and there they even began to call them- 
selves separate States, and they introduced their own 
legislation, taxation, finance, and even their own mili- 
tary defense, which was especially necessary under the 
obtaining state of universal chaos. 

Facing such a situation, what ought the Bolshevist 
government to have done? After a few initial doubts 
and vacillations, it decided to be — as well suited a 
"revolutionary vanguard of proletarians" — a govern- 
ment by party. But the Communist Party, especially 
at the beginning, was not at all numerous. Of course, 
the ranks of the party were soon filled up with new- 
comers. But these "November Bolsheviks" were not at 
all reliable. They were — as Trotsky nicknamed them 
— "radishes," red outside and white inside. Even if 
we count the latter, the membership of the Bolshevist 
Party, for the whole of Russia, according to the Bol- 
sheviks themselves, did not exceed 600,000, i. e., one 
man out of every 200 Russians was a member of the 
Communist Party. Practically it was much less than 
that, not more than one in 500 (1/5 of one per cent.). 
Even the Bolshevist officials were not Communists, in 
the great majority: e. g., in the large provincial town 
of Vologda, in 1918, we find for every hundred of local 
officials only 3 Communists, 37 "sympathizers" (who 
also could buy food at cheap prices from the Govern- 
ment shop) and 60 "non-party" men. A specially 
chosen group of representatives from all the chief 
workmen's unions in Moscow, selected to fetch grain 
from the villages, consisted of 78 per cent "non-party" 



62 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

men, 13 "sympathizers" and only 8 per cent Commun- 
ists (October, 1918). You can see how weak and 
isolated the Bolsheviks must have felt themselves in 
the country, in spite of all their triumphs. In order 
to assert themselves, they had to resort to very strong 
centralization. And as soon as their first difficulties 
were over, they entered upon that path. They acted 
systematically, with much determination and great te- 
nacity of purpose. During the first year of their domi- 
nation they had already achieved important results. 
Here we come to the second, the realistic, line of 
Bolshevist tactics. 

To centralize the provincial administration and to 
bring it into their hands, new administrative local 
organs were soon created, which gradually took the 
place of the self-appointed "soviets." These bureau- 
cratic organs were called "Executive Committees." 
They had to control the Soviets. But then the Sov- 
iets themselves must be transformed so as to serve 
the purposes of the government and the Communist 
Party. The Soviet Constitution made that quite easy. 
The famous paragraph 25 of the Constitution gave the 
right to the administration, in case the activity of some 
group of working people should be recognized as "dan- 
gerous for the Revolution," to deprive that group of 
their electoral right. It goes without saying that all 
bourgeois groups were disabled by the Constitution. 
I came across a curious order sent around to the vil- 
lages in July, 1918, by the Bolshevist Commissary of 
the Interior. "The petty bourgeoisie in the villages," 
the order says (and let us not forget that 85% of 
the population belong to that "petty bourgeoisie"), 
"have dared to participate in the elections and even to 
be elected. They must be immediately arrested and 



THE BOLSHEVIST REGIME 63 

tried for having violated the Law of the Soviet Consti- 
tution." 

These people of the "petty bourgeoisie" are thus 
neither to be elected, nor to elect. Who then is to be 
elected? The Bolshevist authorities give a clear an- 
swer to that question. Here is another order, issued by 
the local soviet in the Province of Voronezh: "The 
right to nominate candidates (to the Soviets) belongs 
exclusively to the groups and parties of electors which 
will file declarations to the effect that they acknowledge 
the Soviet authorities." "All trade unions must file 
—not later than 4 P. M. on January 20 (1919)— a 
written declaration to the town soviet stating their 
relations towards the Soviet authorities." It means 
that the "non-party" electors — who, as we have seen, 
made up (at that time) not less than three-fifths or 
even three-fourths of the Bolshevist officials — were not 
considered "politically reliable" enough to run their 
candidates in the elections. 

On the other hand, such political parties as were con- 
sidered reliable under the Bolshevik domination were 
few, and their number gradually decreased. Practi- 
cally, the Communists alone are considered reliable, 
and official candidates only are admitted for election. 
Here is an appeal to the workmen of a porcelain fac- 
tory, addressed to them by a political representative 
of the 270th Regiment of the Red Army, on the eve 
of the elections : "Comrades, workingmen ! You have 
a difficult task to solve: to elect such comrades to your 
Committee as are useful, you have to elect people who 
are for the Soviets. In order not to get into trouble, 
you must elect only such Communist comrades upon 
whom we can rely. Comrades! I do not see in the list 
of candidates any one, besides the following seven 



64 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

names, who is worthy of being elected (he gives the 
names). If the Committee should turn out to be com- 
posed of other members than these, I will dissolve it 
immediately, and I shall propose that you proceed 
to new elections." 

It is not always as definite as that, and rarely put 
down on paper. But that is the substance of all elec- 
tions under the Bolshevist rule. It is easy to under- 
stand why the number of communist delegates, elected 
to the "soviets" of all degrees, is out of all proportion 
with their number among the population. It is also 
quite natural that such kind of elections deprives the 
Soviets of every significance. The result is that the 
Soviets meet rarely and only to approve the decisions 
of the Executive organs. They have to face accom- 
plished facts. Debates are not formally forbidden, but 
they take place only on exceptional occasions, and 
merely the fact of there being a live discussion on a 
certain subject is already considered a kind of revolt 
against the Bolshevist authorities. 

"All power to the Soviets!" — such was the Bolshevist 
catchword when they had carried out their struggle 
against the Provisional Government. They now 
changed it for another slogan : "All power to the Com- 
munist Party!" They had been opposing democracy. 
Now they decided to stifle even socialist parties, with 
their proletarian following. Mr. Kamenev, a promi- 
nent Bolshevist leader, tells us very sincerely what the 
reason for that change was. "The membership of the 
Communist Party," he states, "is almost imperceptible 
if compared with the Russian popular masses. On the 
other hand, every party needs a certain amount of 
force to rule a country. That is why we, in Russia, 
deem it sufficient to have 'the majority of action/ to 



THE BOLSHEVIST REGIME 65 

keep in power." The Communist Party thus makes 
no secret of the fact that everything that is being 
done in Russia, is being done through and by the initi- 
ative of the Central Committee of the Party. "All 
military politics/' the Central Committee states in 
its publication of December 25, 1918, "as well as the 
politics of all the other ministries and government in- 
stitutions is being conducted on the basis of orders and 
precise instructions given by the Communist Party 
through the channel of its Central Committee and exe- 
cuted under its direct control." 

However, it was not sufficient for the "majority of 
action" — in the hands of an "imperceptible" minority 
in the country — to rely for their further existence only 
on the authority they acquired by centralizing their 
administrative and economic system of government. 
The only means to keep in power was — armed force. 
The Bolsheviks knew this quite well and their first 
maxim for the winning of a communist revolution was 
always this: "Disarm the bourgeois force and arm the 
proletarians." We know how they disarmed the old, 
bourgeois army in the trenches, by demoralizing it. 
There was a moment when, after the dissolution of 
that army at the front, they had practically no forces 
left at their disposal. In January, 1918, the Red Com- 
mander-in-Chief, Krylenko, who took the place of the 
assassinated General Dukhonin, reported to the Central 
Executive Committee, that "Committees (revolution- 
ary nuclei) were the only remnant of the army." There 
were, of course, a few thousand disciplined soldiers, 
drawn from alien elements, such as Chinese, Letts, or 
German and Hungarian prisoners. With their aid the 
Bolsheviks were able to live through that interval of 
complete, matter-of-fact disarmament. But they could 



66 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

not go on like this. The negotiations with the Ger- 
mans at Brest-Litovsk proved to the Bolsheviks that 
the argument of force could not be dispensed with even 
in their dealings with their secret protectors. Mr. 
Trotsky simply failed in his attempts to baffle German 
generals and diplomats by means of rousing Russian 
patriotism. 

He decided to make use of Russia's humiliation by 
the Brest-Litovsk treaty to popularize the necessity 
of returning to a standing army. It was also necessary 
to defend the new power from "internal foes," which 
were already fighting against Bolshevism in the South 
of Russia under Kornilov. As early as January 15, 
1918, a new "Red Army" was created by a decree of the 
People's Commissaries, intended not only for support 
of the Bolshevist power, but also to serve for the "future 
socialist revolution" in Europe. This army was to be 
founded on the principle of voluntary service, and a 
recommendation by at least two members of Bolshevist 
institutions was required to enable one to enter its 
ranks. But this attempt was a complete failure. The 
Bolshevist Government had to flee from Petrograd to 
Moscow before the menace of German troops advanc- 
ing to the Northern capital. It was then that the first 
great concession to reality was made by the anti-mili- 
tarist leaders. Mr. Trotsky, who from a Foreign Com- 
missary had now become a new War Lord of Russia, 
(decided to copy all the Tsarist methods in order to 
create a real disciplined and strong armed force. He 
now preached respect for military science, appealed to 
Tsarist generals and officers to come and serve the Com- 
munist power, and in May, 1919, he definitely started 
to raise "a genuine army, properly organized and firmly 
ruled by a single hand." This army was to be built 



THE BOLSHEVIST REGIME 67 

on the basis of conscription. Former revolutionary 
slogans of "democratizing the army" by permitting the 
privates to discuss at their meetings the military orders 
of their superiors, were now cast aside. Iron discipline 
was reestablished — in pre-revolutionary forms — and 
made even more stringent. Successive mobilizations 
were started from July, 1918. A year later, in the 
autumn of 1919, there were 1% million conscripts, and 
about a third of them (500,000 to 600,000) formed a 
real fighting force ("bayonets"). In the summer of 
1921, the Red Army counted 85 divisions of infantry, 
31 divisions of cavalry, 31 separate brigades, 9 separate 
cavalry brigades and 2,800 guns. The number of "bay- 
onets" was 400,000, and the whole armed force num- 
bered 600,000. 

The political management of the Red Army has al- 
ways remained in the hands of the Communist Party. 
Especially reliable members of the Red Army were 
nominated "military commissaries," with the right of 
capital punishment of military commands for "counter- 
revolutionary" tendencies. Communist "nuclei" were 
formed in every unit of the army, in order to closely 
observe and to report about the state of mind of the 
officers and soldiers. Officers of the old regime with 
few exceptions, were, of course, not considered reliable, 
and the tendency was to replace them with young offi- 
cers graduated from the new military schools created 
by Trotsky. But not before 1923 do the Bolsheviks 
themselves expect this change to be completed. 

We shall come back in the following chapters to the 
question: Just how reliable is the Red Army on the 
whole? But, from what has just been said, you may 
conclude that special measures were needed in order to 
make it reliable. Special measures were also necessary 



68 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

in order to control the whole population of Russia. 
And they were the same as are generally used under all 
systems* of tyranny by an insignificant minority. Au- 
tocracy knew them, but the Bolsheviks have been and 
are using them to an incomparably larger extent. I 
mean the Bolshevist system of espionage, which is 
crowned by the Red Terror. 

The system of terrorism in use at the time of au- 
tocracy met with universal reproof and aroused indigna- 
tion all over the world. It is strange to say that the 
Bolshevist terror, which is by far worse than anything 
known before, was exceedingly leniently treated by the 
same public opinion, and every attempt to denounce 
Bolshevist "horrors" and "atrocities" was met with 
flat denials, as mere "packs of lies." Unfortunately, the 
facts about Red Terrorism are too numerous. They 
cannot be here quoted. What I must emphasize here 
is not isolated facts, but principles. And we know 
already that "crushing the antagonists" is the chief, 
basic principle of Bolshevist tactics. "No dictatorship 
of the proletariat is to be thought of without terror and 
violence," Lenin formally declared in the summer of 
1920. "Terror, as the demonstration of the will and 
strength of the working class, is historically justified," 
said Trotsky in a signed article in January, 1919. 

This kind of terror is not personal, but collective, and 
it searches for victims not among the criminals, but 
among members of a social class supposed to be hos- 
tile to communism. A pamphlet by the Bolshevist 
hangman, Mr. Latsis, which was officially published in 
Moscow, in 1920, states formally that terrorism is an 
inherent feature of the civil war preached by the Com- 
munists. "Civil war is a war in which prisoners are 
not taken and no compromises made, but opponents 



THE BOLSHEVIST REGIME 69 

are killed." Opponents are — the bourgeoisie, which 
just like wolves "does not change its nature." "We are 
not waging war against separate individuals/' Mr. 
Latsis affirmed in November, 1918, in the organ called 
"Red Terror," "We are exterminating the bourgeoisie 
as a class. Do not seek in the dossier of the accused 
for proofs as to whether he opposed the Soviet Govern- 
ment by word or deed. The first question that should 
be put is, to what class does he belong, of what extrac- 
tion, what education and profession. These questions 
should decide the fate of the accused. Herein lies the 
meaning and the essence of the Red Terror," 

Nothing need be added to this statement, and it ex- 
plains why that notorious institution of the "All-Rus- 
sian Extraordinary Commission to combat counter- 
revolution, sabotage and speculation," which at the 
beginning was chiefly intended to conduct investiga- 
tions and whose powers were never clearly defined le- 
gally, gradually erected itself into a sinister tribunal of 
inquisition, with its branches and its torture-chambers 
everywhere in the country, dreaded by the People's 
Commissaries themselves. "Hang the Executive Com- 
mittee of the Workmen's Delegates and all the Soviet," 
an official of the Odessa torture-chamber is quoted as 
saying. "If we choose, we can arrest Lenin himself." 

It is impossible to say how many are the victims of 
this "Che-ka" ("C/iresvychainaya i£omissiya," "Ex- 
traordinary Commission," named from its first letters). 
A report published by it in 1920, gives the following fig- 
ures for Moscow and Petrograd : 

1918 1919 

Executed 6,185 3,456 

Arrested 46,348 80,662 



70 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

The great majority of the executed (7,068 out of 9,641 
in two years) were shot for "counter-revolutionary 
activities/' i.e., for political reasons. These figures do 
not include the work of the numerous provincial Extra- 
ordinary Commissions, and, of course, they do not 
mention the numerous victims slain here and there 
throughout Russia, without any form of trial. The 
number of such would probably amount to tens or 
even hundreds of thousands. 

We now know what three pillars have supported the 
Bolshevist structure for such a long time. There are, 
in the first place, their highly centralized system of ad- 
ministration, numbering quite an army of officials, con- 
trolled by the Communist Party; in the second place, 
their Red Army, also controlled by the Communist 
Party, and in the third place, their secret police and 
espionage system, which is entirely in the hands of the 
Communists. Of the two aims mentioned at the be- 
ginning — preparing for communism and keeping in 
power — the former was gradually removed to the sec- 
ond place, while the latter has evolved into a system 
of self-defense of the small minority against their own 
people, — a system which has never been surpassed by 
any tyranny at any time in the world's history. 

Whether or not this system is likely to save Bol- 
shevism from its final downfall, will be shown in the 
following chapters. 



CHAPTER IV. 

THE REVOLUTION AND NATIONALITIES. 

A chapter on nationalities and on the national ques- 
tion in Russia cannot be omitted even from such a 
brief outline as this. Russia was not — and is not now 
— an entirely homogeneous "national" (i.e., "one na- 
tion") State as France, or Germany or Italy. An 
ethnographic map of Russia within its former bound- 
aries (before 1914) shows variously marked spots not 
only on the outskirts of Russia, such as Finland, the 
Baltic States, Transcaucasia, the Central Asiatic Prov- 
inces, but also inside Russia proper. Many remnants 
of aboriginal tribes can be found in the North (Zery- 
ans, Samoyeds), on the Volga and in the Ural region, 
(Tatars, Mordva, Cheremiss, Chuvashes, Bashkirs, 
Kirghiz) and in Siberia. The first impression is that 
Russia before the World War was a multinational 
State like Turkey and Hungary, bound to be rent 
asunder from within, as a result of the growing^national 
consciousness of its component parts. And indeed, this 
comparison has often been used. I find it, e.g., in Gen- 
eral Smuts' leaflet on the League of Nations. He treats 
Russia as one of the three vanquished powers, and he 
looks at the process of dismemberment of Russia, Aus- 
tria-Hungary and Turkey in the light of "self-deter- 
mination" of their enslaved nationalities. 

The view of a liberal Russian like myself is, natur- 

71 



72 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

ally, a different one. We stand for self-determination 
and for national autonomy. At the same time, we are 
very strongly against the dismemberment of Russia. 
We expect to find a middle path between self-deter- 
mination and unity in a Russian federation. A com- 
parison with Hungary and Turkey we consider too far- 
fetched, if facts are considered, and unfair, when made 
by a recent ally. 

In contrast with conditions in Turkey, the nationali- 
ties of the former Russian Empire, even in the worst 
times of autocratic policy, could not be considered as 
"enslaved." And, contrasted with Hungary, Russia had 
its numerically predominant stock which formed a 
geographically continuous and solid nucleus of the Em- 
pire. The numerical relation between the component 
nationalities of the former Russian Empire can be seen 
from the following figures. I take them from the census 
of 1897 (the only one we have had). The entire popu- 
lation then numbered 128 millions; it grew to 180 mil- 
lions in 1918, and approximate figures for the present 
time can be calculated accordingly. 



1. NATIONALITIES WITHIN THE AREA OF THE 
PRESENT RUSSIA (IN THOUSANDS) : 

European Si- Central 
Russia beria Asia Total 
Russians: 

Great Russians 48,559 4,424 588 53,571 

Little Russians 20,415 223 102 20,740 

("Ukrainians") 

White Russians 5,823 12 1 5,836 

74,797 4,659 691 80,147 



REVOLUTION AND NATIONALITIES 73 

European Si- Central 
Turko-Tatars: Russia beria Asia Total 

(Kirghiz, Tatars, 
Bashkirs, Sarts, Uz- 
begs, Chuvashes, Tur- 
komans, other) 4,220 475 6,618 11,313 

Finno-Ugrians: 

(Finns, K a r e 1 i a n s, 

Lapps, Mordvinians, 

other) 2,433 53 13 2,499 

Mongols 171 289 ... 460 

Jews 3,715 33 8 3,756 

Germans 1,312 5 9 1,326 

11,851 855 6,648 19,354 



2. NATIONALITIES IN THE BORDER STATES 
THAT MADE PART OF THE FORMER RUSSIAN 
EMPIRE: 

Finns (in Finland) 2,353 

Poles (Russian Poland) . . 7,866 

(Russians in Poland proper: Great Russians, 267; Little 
Russians, 335; White Russians, 29; Jews, 1,267) 

Lithuanians 1,658 

Letts 1,427 

Esthonians 990 

Rumanians 1,122 

Caucasians (in Transcaucasia) : 

(Russians in Caucasia: Great Russians, 1,830; Little 
Russians, 1,305; White Russians, 20) 

Armenians 1,096 

Georgians 1,352 

Turko-Tatars 1,880 

Other Caucasians 1,631 

5,959 
Total 21,375 (+ 3,766 Russians + 

1,267 Jews, etc.) 



74 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

In former Russia the Russian stock made up 65%, 
i.e., two-thirds of the population (43.3% Great Rus- 
sians; 17.4% Little Russians; 4.5% White Russians). 
In dismembered Russia it makes up 80%, i.e., four- 
fifths of the population, and the remaining 20% do 
not represent continuous groups but, with the excep- 
tion of the Central Asiatic Provinces, are very much 
scattered among the Russians. It is true that the Rus- 
sians themselves divide into the three branches men- 
tioned above. Since probably the XII-XIV Century 
these branches speak different dialects, and there have 
been some attempts made to prove that Little Russian 
and White Russian are not dialects, but entirely differ- 
ent languages from the Great Russian, which is the 
language of our literature. At any rate, they are much 
closer related to each other than to any other Slav 
language, either of the Western (Polish or Czech) or 
even of the Eastern (Bulgarian and Serbian) groups. 
All three Russian branches understand each other quite 
easily. 

So far as the other nationalities are concerned, the 
difference between such as are now detached from Rus- 
sia and such as have remained within Russia is a very 
gradual one. The difference is not so much in degree 
of national consciousness as in geographical position 
and in the degree of continuity of settlement. 

To compare the relation of all these nationalities to 
the Russian stock, with the relation of the enslaved 
Christian nationalities towards Turkey means simply 
not to know the character of the Turkish domination. 
There was nothing in Russia like superposition of two 
races, the ruling and the conquered one, with their un- 
fathomed difference of culture and civilization. It was 
not conquest and subjugation, but a lengthy process 



REVOLUTION AND NATIONALITIES 75 

of settlement and amalgamation. Up to quite recently 
no nationality in Russia thought of separating itself 
from the Russian State and even the idea of autonomy 
was not common. That state of mind of the nationali- 
ties entirely harmonized with the spirit of the Russian 
people, which never was aggressively nationalistic; nay, 
it was not always conscious of its own nationality. 

A morbid and inflamed national feeling is born al- 
ways under the menace of denationalization, which is 
particularly dangerous for small nations. No such 
menace could exist in a country like Russia. Russia 
was too big, and its population, far from being influ- 
enced by other nationalities, had not even much chance 
of learning about their very existence. It is often 
stated that the American Middle West found itself in 
a similar situation which, until recently, made it quite 
indifferent about other nations and foreign politics. 
Every great nation has its middle-something which 
does not come in contact with any boundaries and does 
not know much about any conflicts. This is about the 
state of mind of the Russian popular masses. There 
were, of course, exceptions to that state of indifference 
in the long historical life of the nation. The Tatar 
yoke of the XIII-XIV Century made the upper social 
layers in Russia feel keenly that they were Russians 
and Christians. When, at a later period (XVII Cen- 
tury and after), there was the danger of being dena- 
tionalized by the Poles on the Western frontier of 
Russia, the Russian population disclosed a strong de- 
fensive or even militant nationalism. The whole na-. 
tion rose up at the beginning of the XVII Century to 
defend Russia's political and national independence. 
There was also much feeling against that process of 
"Europeanization" of Russia, which began in the sec- 



/- 



76 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

ond part of the XVII Century and especially with the 
reforms of Peter the Great. National feeling is again 
aroused now in the masses, as a result of the Allied 
policy toward Russia. But as I have just said, these 
are exceptions, and even in these cases popular feeling 
never turned itself against other nationalities in Rus- 
sia itself (except the Jews). Still less was it possible 
to expect that the Russian people would "Russianize" 
other nationalities, as the Hungarians were "Magyariz- 
ing" their alien populations, or the Greeks, the Serbs 
and Bulgarians were trying to assimilate the population 
of Macedonia. It was not the people, but the officials; 
not the intellectuals, but the Government which dur- 
ing the reign of Nicholas I (1825-1855) started upon 
"Russianization" of the borderlands and made of mili- 
tant nationalism a weapon of political reaction. 

However, what remained unknown to the Russian 
masses was gradually learned by the small nationalities 
incorporated into Russia. Naturally enough, a strong 
and uncompromising national feeling was first devel- 
oped by such nationalities as were more advanced and 
comparatively recently added to the Russian State: 
the Poles (1815) and the Finns (1809). 

The end of the XVIII and the beginning of the XIX 
Century, as is well known, was the time of a general 
national revival in Europe, which followed as a reac- 
tion against the cosmopolitanism of the XVIII Cen- 
tury and of the Great French Revolution. It was a 
period of Romanticism involving learned researches for 
the spirit and soul of the peoples — the primitive peo- 
ples or lower social strata — which preserved their folk- 
lore, popular songs, national costumes and traditions. 
In Russia it was also the time when the first founda- 
tions were laid for the nationalistic doctrine which pro- 



REVOLUTION AND NATIONALITIES 77 

claimed that the "Russian" faith and the "Russian" 
form of government formed the substance of the Rus- 
sian nationality. The doctrine had its refined philo- 
sophical development in the hands of the "Slavophil" 
group of Russian intellectuals. But it also had its sim- 
plified version which served quite well the nationalist 
policy of the Russian autocracy. 

This policy was not always hostile to the awakening 
of national revival among the small nationalities in 
Russia. On the contrary, while combating the strong, 
the Russian Government protected the weak. It tried 
to oppose new germs of national life to the more dan- 
gerous nationalism of the neighboring powers. Thus 
Russia encouraged the modest beginnings of Finnish 
literature and defended it from the Swedish civiliza- 
tion of the upper social layers in Finland. Russia also 
protected the early manifestations of the Lettish and 
Lithuanian nationalities against the German civiliza- 
tion of the Baltic "barons" and Polish landlords. The 
Russian Government was not hostile to the revival of 
the Georgian and Armenian literature, while it played 
Armenian patriotism against the Turks. 

What was the attitude of Russian liberalism and 
Russian public opinion concerning national questions? 
The influence of Russian liberalism on politics began 
to be felt in the second half of the XIX Century. But 
liberalism cared little about exclusive and chauvinistic 
nationalism. Russian liberalism was broad-minded, 
freethinking and cosmopolitan. Such also was the in- 
fluence of Russian literature, poetry, fiction, wherever 
it found its way. The intellectuals of other nationali- 
ties reflected that state of mind, as they were strongly 
influenced by the same literature. They remained 
sympathetic to manifestations of the feelings of op- 



78 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

pressed nationalities, but they chiefly resented political 
oppression, without being much affected by purely 
national demands. 

The change came at the end of the XIX Century. 
After the comparatively liberal reign of Alexander II 
(1855-81) there followed a period of recrudescence of 
militant nationalism, under Alexander III (1881-1894), 
which continued also under Nicholas II (1894-1917). 
Two nationalities were especially persecuted by these 
reactionary Governments: the Finns and the Poles — 
the most advanced two. At the end of the Century a 
third group of Caucasian nationalities was added. The 
fourth persecuted group were the Jews. A real exodus 
of Russian Jews began after the world-known pogroms 
of the Ministers Durnovo and Plehve, about 1890. At 
the same time a new Jewish nationalist movement ap- 
peared — Zionism. Then it was perhaps for the first 
time that Russian intellectuals, as well as the Jewish, 
faced the national problem in its deeper sense. 

The immediate result was a scission. The older gen- 
eration preferred to remain faithful to the former type 
of Russian liberal cosmopolitanism. The young gen- 
eration turned nationalist, both on the side of the per- 
secuted and the persecutors. Those that defended 
themselves, as well as those that attacked, seemed to 
start from the same basic axiom: the principle of na- 
tionality was paramount for both. 

Between the two generations, my personal position 
was difficult. I never shared the one-sided cosmopoli- 
tanism of the older generation, which ignored the very 
existence of national problems. At the same time I 
was unable to sympathize with the equally one-sided 
spirit in which the national problem was solved by the 
generation of the end of the century. And indeed, the 



REVOLUTION AND NATIONALITIES 79 

alternative was equally unacceptable, — to disregard and 
not to understand at all the process of growing national 
consciousness of small nationalities (which I just then 
learned to know at the hand of the Balkan example), 
or to oppose to that legitimate process the national ex- 
clusiveness of the main national body. 

Both states of mind were now rousing friction be- 
tween the Russian and the allogeneous intellectuals. 
The cosmopolitan intellectuals were accused by the 
other nationalities of "imperialist" proclivities and even 
sometimes of playing a double game with national 
questions. The cause of their supposed insincerity was 
that they in all conscience did not include the idea of 
national autonomy and freedom of collective manifes- 
tations of national feelings in the catechism of liberal 
principles which they preached. On the other hand, 
the young generation of nationalists, which fully under- 
stood the importance of national strivings, considered 
them to be dangerous to the State and often took the 
side of the persecutors, while they wished to have the 
Russian State built on the German pattern, as a "one 
nation" State. 

I earnestly cherish the hope that the present genera- 
tion, the third one, having grown up during the Revo- 
lution and having learned from its lessons, will know 
how to find a middle line between liberal cosmopolitan- 
ism and reactionary nationalism. 

At the time when the Revolutionary movement in 
Russia began to win its first successes, there were as 
yet no disagreements between the Russian liberals and 
the national intellectuals. All national advanced 
groups fought under the same banner, the political 
banner. They did not then think of self-determination 
as their immediate aim. It was understood that the 



80 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

liberation of nationalities was a part of the general 
political liberation of Russia from the autocratic 
regime. Poland alone claimed independence. But even 
that claim was modified by the uncertainty of the in- 
ternational situation, which made the task of liberating 
at the same time all three parts of Poland, the Russian, 
German and Austrian, almost impossible. Finland did 
not ask for more than an independent constitution 
which would not exclude common links in questions of 
imperial diplomacy, defense and partly in finance. The 
other nationalities did not even expect or wish as much 
as that. 

In the first Russian Duma the representatives of the 
different nationalities united with the Russian deputies 
in a common political struggle. To realize their na- 
tional aspirations, they formed with the Russians a 
"Union of Autonomists-Federalists." It is character- 
istic of that time that in the second Duma (socialistic 
in its majority), they dropped the second part of that 
title, thus emphasizing their desire for stronger unity. 
It was now a "Union of Autonomists." 

The tendency to acquire freedom jointly and to post- 
pone the fight for self-determination was especially 
strong with the more advanced parties, which united 
socialism with national aspirations. Such parties de- 
cidedly opposed the separatist tendencies of the older 
and more conservative groups. As early as 1904 the 
Polish National-Democratic Party renounced its de- 
mand for Polish independence. The Polish Socialist 
Party (P. P. S.) followed its example in 1907. The 
Lithuanian democrats changed their name in the same 
spirit. Instead of calling themselves "the Democratic 
Party of Lithuania" (an independent State), they as- 
sumed the name: "the Party of Democratic Lithuan- 



REVOLUTION AND NATIONALITIES 81 

ians" (i.e., an ethnic group fighting for democracy in 
general and basing itself on territorial autonomy in- 
stead of national independence). The Lithuanian 
Social-Democrats in 1906 renounced their separate Con- 
stituent Assembly in Vilna and declared themselves 
satisfied with the All-Russian one. In 1907 they re- 
nounced altogether their demand for federalism, de- 
clared themselves satisfied with autonomy and joined 
hands with the Russian Social-Democrats. The demo- 
cratic Letts were still more moderate. They declared, 
in 1905 r that separation was a dangerous tendency 
worthy of "barons and priests," and that "it would be 
equivalent to suicide — to separate themselves from 
Russia." In Georgia, too, at the beginning of the XX 
Century it was chiefly the noblemen who defended 
political separatism. Such socialists as were "feder- 
alists," provoked severe criticism on the part of their 
fellow-socialists and were kept at .the background. 
_The Armenian nationalists, the "Dashnaks," were an 
apparent exception. But their independent Armenia 
was to be cut out from Turkey — with Russia's help, if 
possible — not from Russia?] 

The Mussulman population did not wish for any- 
thing more than freedom of religious and cultural life. 
They cast their lot with the Russian democratic parties 
(particularly the Constitutional-Democrats). They 
elected their deputies on imperial party platforms and 
these deputies in the first two Dumas sat with the 
"Cadets," before they formed their own separate fac- 
tion. The Ukrainian radicals too at that time did not 
go beyond a "national territorial autonomy." 

All these symptoms of moderation of the advanced 
national parties are especially interesting because here, 
for the first time in Russian history, they were able to 



82 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

speak their minds quite freely. We can be sure that 
this was indeed the expression of their real opinion. 
They decidedly did not wish to be detached from Rus- 
sia. 

Two circumstances changed that conciliatory state 
of mind during the last decade before the Revolution 
of 1917. 

In the first place, the nationalities were bitterly dis- 
appointed in the Duma. Not only did they not suc- 
ceed in winning political and national freedom in the 
first two Dumas, but in the last two Dumas a majority 
could be formed by the Government, which was almost 
more reactionary in national questions than the Gov- 
ernment itself. The most chauvinistic legislation was 
carried by the Duma, which hurt deeply the feelings of 
the chief nationalities, the Finns, Poles, Mussulmans, 
Ukrainians, etc. To be sure it was autocracy that was 
responsible for the composition of the two last Dumas 
(See Chapter I). The opposition parties fought by the 
side of the nationalities. But chauvinism breeds- chau- 
vinism. The public opinion of the nationalities turned 
vindictive. The opinion prevailed among them that 
the Russian liberals and intellectuals were as "imperial- 
istic" as the Tsar's Government, and that the nationali- 
ties could expect nothing from them, even if Russia 
should succeed in obtaining a good constitution and real 
political freedom. 

The second reason for the change of mind of the 
nationalities was even more weighty. Their growing 
disaffection was very skillfully exploited by forces out- 
side Russia. 

The dismemberment of Russia — on her western 
frontier — was deliberately made a part of the Pan- 
German and the so-called Middle-European scheme of 



REVOLUTION AND NATIONALITIES 83 

reconstruction of the future Europe, after the German 
victory. The expected annexations of industrial 
regions on the Belgian and the French frontiers were 
to be balanced by an equivalent annexation of agricul- 
tural regions to the east of the Russian frontier. Rus- 
sia's part of the indemnity was thus to be paid with 
land. 

As early as the beginning of 1916 the German Army 
occupied a great part of the area under consideration : 
Poland, the Baltic Provinces, Latvia and Lithuania, 
also a part of the Ukraine. But even before that, as 
soon as the War was definitely decided upon — namely 
in 1913 — there began an active German and Austrian 
propaganda among the nationalities they intended to 
detach from Russia. Subsidies were given in profusion 
to the leaders of the different national movements. 
Presumably, that was about the moment when Lenin 
also, then in Krakov, and Trotsky condescended to ac- 
cept German and Austrian money. Lenin's interna- 
tional program was then enriched with a new, ultra- 
national addition: "self-determination going as far as 
complete disannexation." 

When the War began, a further step was taken to 
prepare for Russia's dismemberment. The prisoners 
of all the nationalities mentioned, the Finns, Esthon- 
ians, Letts, Ukrainians, Moslems, were intentionally 
concentrated each group in a special national camp. 
They were there trained for revolutionary propaganda 
and for military insurrections in the corresponding 
parts of Russia. However, the opinion of the leading 
national, groups even then remained moderate. At a 
special '(Con gress of Nationalities" which met at Lau- 
sanne in June, 1916, only the Finns, the Poles and the 
representatives of Bokhara and Khiva unconditionally 



84 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

asked for independence. The Esthonians, the Cauca- 
sian nationalities, the Kirghiz and Tatars, and the 
Ukrainians formulated their demands in a conditional 
form. They still were ready to be satisfied with na- 
tional autonomy. 

But now the Revolution broke. The results of the 
aforementioned German-Austrian propaganda at once 
became manifest. Drilled propagandists of different 
nationalities rushed into Russia. Here they concurred 
in the forming, within the Russian army, of separate 
national military groups, composed of Ukrainians, 
Poles, Lithuanians, White-Russians, Moslems, Siber- 
ians. At the same time, Lenin proclaimed the right to 
"disannexation" of such "annexed" provinces as Fin- 
land, Poland, Esthonia, Courland, the Ukraine, Bessa- 
rabia, Georgia, Armenia, Daghestan, Turkestan, — to- 
gether with Ireland, India, Egypt, Morocco, Algeria, 
etc. His Krakov promises were thus fulfilled and sur- 
passed by far. In vain did other Social-Democratic 
groups try to make head against Lenin and stand firm 
by their attitude of 1905 (which attitude we know), to 
stem the separatist strivings. Lenin's view prevailed 
fully after the Bolshevist victory of November, 1917. 
A week after his coup d'etat, on November 15, Lenin 
issued a declaration of the "rights of nationalities in 
Russia." He confirmed here the principles of equality 
and sovereignty of nationalities in Russia and their 
right "to dispose of themselves as far as the separation 
and building of independent States." 

Immediate use was made of these gallant concessions 
by the Germans. On November 29, the German Chan- 
cellor Hertling declared in the Reichstag that he "re- 
spected the right of Poland, Courland and Lithuania to 



REVOLUTION AND NATIONALITIES 85 

decide" about their fate independently from Russia. 
On New Year's day these three provinces, as well as 
parts of Livonia and Esthonia were proclaimed defi- 
nitely detached from Russia. It corresponded to the 
dot to the above-mentioned drafts of alterations on the 
Eastern Frontier of Germany. Moreover, by the Brest- 
Litovsk treaty, Russia undertook to directly evacuate 
Finland, the Baltic Provinces, the Ukraine and Trans- 
caucasia. The Ukraine was forced to conclude a sep- 
arate peace with Germany, as a first proof of its inde- 
pendence. 

Up to that moment — everything was clear and easy 
to understand for every Russian. We knew that in the 
event of his victory our enemy would be inexorable in 
the realization of his decision to weaken Russia and to 
make use of her economic resources for himself. We 
fully expected Germany to do that. That is why we 
fought so hard against Germany and in fact very much 
longer than we actually could bear the strain. 

On the other hand we also expected that our Allies, 
after having attained the aim of our common effort, 
would help us to make good the fatal results of our 
sacrifice. We did not expect them, of course, to re- 
store the unity of Russia, as long as Russia remained 
in the possession of the Bolsheviks. We also under- 
stood that the newly-built border states had good rea- 
son to insist on their matter-of-fact separation, in order 
not to be swallowed by the Bolshevist Russia. As long 
as the situation remained temporary — as well as the 
causes which created it — there was no reason for real 
worry. The Bolsheviks were allies of the Germans; 
Russia was dismembered by the Germans. This state 
of things must change with the defeat of the Germans. 



86 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

Germany was defeated. The Brest- Litovsk treaty was 
abrogated. Imagine our utter astonishment and dis- 
may when after some waiting we began to realize that 
to weaken Russia was not only the aim of our enemies, 
and that "self-determination" of nationalities was really 
going to transform itself into "dismemberment" of 
Russia, under the conditions of a definite peace treaty ! 
Mr. Lloyd George told us in the House of Commons, 
on November 17, 1919, that "fighting for a reunited 
Russia might not be a policy that suits the British 
Empire." He mentioned a "very great statesman, Lord 
Beaconsfield," who "regarded a great, gigantic, colossal, 
growing Russia as the greatest menace the British Em- 
pire could be confronted with." Lloyd George ob- 
viously shared that view. 

The interests of the Allies were unequally distributed 
among the newly-built border states, and the recogni- 
tion of their newly-acquired independence also varied 
in degree and in speediness according to the degree 
of interest of each of the Allies. The interest of France 
was chiefly centered on that idea of controlling Ger- 
many from the East and of finding a substitute for 
the Russian alliance. For a considerable time Poland 
was considered able to take the place of Russia, espe- 
cially if it would be a "strong" and territorially en- 
larged Poland. Certain Polish statesmen tried to im- 
press that idea on their Allies, and to a certain degree 
they succeeded. But, as a consequence of further events 
and complications, the traditional enthusiasm of the 
French public opinion seems to have cooled down. It 
left, however, a pernicious result in the form of the 
annexation by Poland of a strip of land with a 4,000,000 
Russian population, contrary to the good ethnographic 



REVOLUTION AND NATIONALITIES 87 

frontier proposed to Poland by the League of Nations 
in July, 1919. The treaty of Riga of 1920, which con- 
tains that decision, will remain a source of dangerous 
complications in the future. 

The British interest is chiefly limited to such border 
states as can be reached from the sea. Mr. Lloyd 
George, in his Guildhall Speech of 1919, formulated 
that policy plainly. "True to the instinct which has 
always saved us," he said, "we never went far from the 
sea," a remark which was met with the laughter of 
recognition. There are now two more seas added to the 
domain of British interest: the Baltic and the Black 
Sea. Situated on the Baltic Sea, Esthonia and Latvia 
were provisionally recognized by Great Britain on May 
3 and November 18, 1918, — before their final recogni- 
tion by the Supreme Council in January, 1921. An 
American writer sums these facts up in a keen com- 
ment, which I permit myself to quote here. 1 "The recog- 
nition of the two governments of Esthonia and Latvia 
by Great Britain," he states, "has a commercial signifi- 
cance, not only in respect of the future of Russia, but 
with reference to general imperial policy ... It ap- 
pears to be understood that the Baltic Sea is a British 
trade realm in which there will be important develop- 
ments in the future. Thus it was the British navy 
that blockaded the coasts of Germany and Soviet Rus- 
sia. A British High Commissioner sits at Danzig, and 
British naval units have patrolled the coast of the 
Baltic. ... All this is in line with the British tradi- 
tional policy of establishing influence or control in 

"The New World Problems in Political Geography," by Isaiah 
Bowman, Ph.D., Director of the American Geographical Society in 
New York. 



88 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

ports and coastal belts serving as outlets for interior 
population, from which flow important currents of 
trade." 

An equally important change took place in the status 
of the Black Sea, which reflected itself in the situation 
of the Transcaucasian border states, Georgia, Armenia 
and Azerbaidjan. According to the treaty signed at 
Sevres, on August 10, 1920, passage through the Straits 
of the Dardanelles and the Bosphorus is made free not 
only for trading vessels, but also for all warships, ir- 
respective of their flags, in time of war as in time of 
peace. This was done in spite of the observations of 
the Ottoman Delegation which found the sovereignty 
of Turkey, her integrity and security deeply affected, 
and also in spite of the objections of the Russian 
(unofficial) delegates who stated on July 5, 1919, that 
free access to the Black Sea for warships leaves without 
defense the 2,230 kilometers of Russia's southern lit- 
toral. From the point of national defense, the situa- 
tion on the Black Sea was thus extremely deteriorated, 
as a result of the World War. At the same time the 
Transcaucasian border states became an object of 
special attention on the part of the British. 

It is impossible to describe here all the havoc played 
by the "Balkanization" in Transcaucasia. Geography, 
ethnography and historical tradition worked very 
strongly for unity among the three chief Transcauca- 
sian nationalities and between all of them and Russia. 
The Russian population in that region, as can be seen 
from the table, constituted a very large minority. Rus- 
sian civilization has had an enormous influence on these 
regions and their economic development is chiefly due 
to the peaceful conditions created by the Russian sway. 
Separatist tendencies prevailed here only under condi- 



REVOLUTION AND NATIONALITIES 89 

tions of imperative necessity. Directly after the Bol- 
shevist coup, the prominent Georgian leader, Mr. Noe 
Jordania, declared (December 3, 1917) : "As a part 
of Russia we continue to stand for an All-Russian plat- 
form. . . . Separation from Russia means submission 
to the East. . . . The interests of all Caucasians re- 
quire a regeneration of the central power in Russia." 
As late as the end of February, 1918, at a Diet of Trans- 
caucasian members of the All-Russian Constituent As- 
sembly, representatives of all three nations, Georgians, 
Armenians and Moslems declared themselves for a 
"united Russian federative democratic Republic." It 
was only when the Brest- Litovsk treaty was signed that 
the Diet was forced (April 27, 1918) to declare the 
"independence" of Transcaucasia, at the demand of 
the Turks whose armies invaded the country. The 
aim of the Turks was to unite the Transcaucasian Mus- 
sulmans and to form of them an independent "Republic 
of Azerbaidjan." It was in order to save themselves 
from the Mussulman menace that the Georgians threw 
themselves into the hands of the Germans and asked 
the German Army to come and take up their defense 
against the Turks and the Transcaucasian Moslems, 
and, as a consequence of their demand, proclaimed the 
independence of their own "Georgian Republic" (May 
26, 1918). The Armenians, who were the only ones 
to remain faithful to the Entente, had to pay the bill. 
Both the Turks and the Georgians wanted their land, 
and they could not but succumb under the double at- 
tack. 

This was the state of things in Transcaucasia when, 
after the Armistice of November 11, 1918, access to 
the Black Sea was made free for the Allied fleets. Just 
before that moment an appeal by Mr. Balfour to the 



90 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

peoples of Russia, published in Baku ("Azerbaidjan") 
on August 26, 1918, promised to support Russia against 
dismemberment. Such were also the first pronounce- 
ments of the British troops which came to the assist- 
ance of Baku against the Azerbaidjan and Turkish be- 
sieging troops. But soon that policy changed. Gen- 
eral Thompson's proclamation of November 24, 1918, 
declared that the fate of the "Russian territory" be- 
tween the Black Sea and the Caspian was to be decided 
(in the absence of Russia) at the Peace Conference. 
On December 28, 1918, the Azerbaidjan government 
was recognized by General Thompson as the only right- 
ful power. On December 30, 1918, Mr. Balfour in- 
formed the Georgian representatives "that His Maj- 
esty's Government view with sympathy the creation 
of a Georgian Republic and are prepared to urge its 
recognition at the Conference and to support its desire 
to send its delegates to Paris with the object of pre- 
senting its claims." And, indeed, it was at Earl Cur- 
zon's initiative that on January 15, 1920, the Supreme 
Council recognized the de facto independence of Azer- 
baidjan, Georgia and Armenia. 

However, this recognition took place after the Brit- 
ish occupation of Transcaucasia was discontinued and 
the British troops withdrawn from Georgia and Ar- 
menia (July- August, 1919). Mr. Lloyd George's utter- 
ances as to the "instinct which always saved" the 
British and helped them to "extricate themselves," 
when they went too "far from the sea," seems to have 
been suggested by the situation in Transcaucasia. The 
Italians were also unwilling to take up the task which 
the British had found too costly and dangerous for 
themselves, and, finally, the newly created republics 
were occupied by the Bolsheviks. On April 28, 1920, 



REVOLUTION AND NATIONALITIES 91 

Baku was peacefully taken by the Bolsheviks, who were 
invited to come by a meeting of the representatives of 
the parliamentary parties. With Georgia, a peace 
treaty was signed by the Bolsheviks on May 8. But at 
the moment when they seemed to be restoring Russia's 
unity, the real aim of the Bolshevist advance to Trans- 
caucasia became clear. It was a part of their scheme to 
bring about a revolution in the East, and the Trans- 
caucasian Christian nations were to be sacrificed to the 
Turko-Bolshevist Alliance. As a result of the ^decision 
of the Third International at Moscow, a congress of 
Eastern "peoples" met at Baku on August 27, 1920. 
Armenia was forced on November 7 to make peace with 
Turkey and to open a corridor between the Turks and 
the Bolsheviks by giving up two of her districts (Zan- 
ghezur and Karabagh). Bolshevist armies were sent 
to Azerbaidjan in order to cooperate with the Turks 
against the Armenians and the Georgians. As a re- 
sult, communist governments were created in Armenia 
and in Georgia and both nationalities were put under 
direct Bolshevist control. The last treaty c*f the Bol- 
sheviks with the Turks practically gives up all Trans- 
caucasia to the Turks. Such were the results of the 
involuntary "self-determination" in Transcaucasia. 

I am satisfied to state that the policy of the United 
States in all these questions concerning national prob- 
lems and dismemberment of Russia was perfectly con- 
sistent with general principles of democracy and com- 
pletely loyal towards the Russian people. The Ameri- 
can viewpoint was especially well emphasized in 
Secretary Colby's note of August 10, 1920, sent out in 
reply to the Italian Government's questions as to the 
claims of Poland. "Friendship and honor," Mr. Colby 
said, "require that Russia's interests must be gen- 



92 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

erously protected and, as far as possible, all decisions 
of vital importance to it, and especially those concern- 
ing its sovereignty over the territory of the former 
Russian Empire, be held in abeyance. By this feeling 
of friendship and honorable obligation to the great na- 
tion whose brave and heroic self-sacrifice contributed so 
much to the successful termination of the war, the 
Government of the United States was guided in its 
reply to the Lithuanian National Council on October 
19, 1919, and its persistent refusal to recognize the 
Baltic States as separate nations independent of Rus- 
sia. The same spirit was manifested in the note of this 
Government of March 24, 1920, in which it was stated 
with reference to certain proposed settlements in the 
Near East that 'no final decision should or can be 
made without the consent of Russia/ In line with 
these important declarations of policy the United 
States withheld its approval from the decision of the 
Supreme Council in Paris recognizing the independence 
of the so-called Republics of Georgia and Azerbaidjan, 
and so instructed its representative in Southern Rus- 
sia, Rear- Admiral Newton McCully. Finally . . . the 
Government of the United States has taken the posi- 
tion that final determination of the boundaries (of the 
independent Armenia) must not be made without Rus- 
sia's cooperation and agreement. . . . We were unwill- 
ing that while Russia is helpless in the grip of non- 
representative government whose only sanction is bru- 
tal force, Russia shall be weakened still further by a 
policy of dismemberment conceived in other than Rus- 
sian interests." 

This noble line of conduct has not changed under 
the new administration. The note of Secretary Hughes, 



REVOLUTION AND NATIONALITIES 93 

issued on the occasion of the Washington Conference, 
fully confirms Secretary Colby's statement. 

The suspicion has often been voiced that under the 
cloak of that idea of sovereignty of the people and unity 
of territory the old Russian form of centralized gov- 
ernment may be introduced. As we have just seen, 
it has already been introduced by the Bolsheviks in 
such border states of former Russia which they suc- 
ceeded in bringing back under their control. I have 
little doubt but that the reactionary and monarchist 
extremists cherish an ideal that would be equally able 
to restore the formal, purely mechanical unity of Rus- 
sia, based on passive submission. Probably, it is ap- 
prehension of such prospectives that urges the repre- 
sentatives of nationalities at present to insist on for- 
mal recognition of their newly acquired independence. 
Even such of them as are inclined to federate with 
Russia, will often say that formal independence is 
the best starting point for future negotiations. The 
difficulty is that there can be no final recognition of 
independence without the formal act of a legally con- 
stituted Russian Government. Recognitions by other 
powers are not binding for the Russian people. In an 
acuter form, we come to the same vicious circle that 
threatened the success of the Irish negotiations with 
the British. No negotiations without recognition, 
would be the view of nationalities. No recognition 
without previous negotiations, may be the view of the 
other side. What then is the way out from that prob- 
able imbroglio? 

To a great extent it can be disposed of by the atti- 
tude taken by the Russian democracy. This attitude 
may be seen from the resolution adopted by the Con- 



94 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

ference of the Members of the All-Russian Constituent 
Assembly — which met in Paris, in January, 1921 — 
with regard to the newly formed border States. Po- 
land and Finland are here not included, as their sev- 
erance from Russia is considered to be final. 
The resolution reads as follows: 

"1. The Russian Democratic parties have always recog- 
nized the justice of the claim of Russia's nationalities for 
free self-determination, and the Constituent Assembly ac- 
cordingly proclaimed on January 5, 1918, the principles of a 
federal structure for Russia. This desire of the nationalities 
of Russia, however, in view of the tragic circumstances 
which ensued subsequently, took the form of a demand for 
absolute secession of the Border States and complete sever- 
ance of all connection with Russia, from a desire to pro- 
tect themselves against the despotic power and destructive 
policy of the Bolshevist dictators. 

"2. As long as the Bolshevist dictatorship will continue to 
oppress Russia the gravitation of the Border States towards 
Russia will not be able to assume rational and lawful forms. 
The stabilization of any moral and political break between 
those countries and Russia will only lead to Balkanization 
and mutual feuds which will be taken advantage of to serve 
the interests of foreign imperialistic politics. 

"3. Reckoning with the established fact of a number of 
new States founded through the efforts of the Border nation- 
alities, and also with our desire to safeguard their independ- 
ence, in as far as it is expressed by their representative in- 
stitutions based upon universal suffrage, the democracy of 
Russia assumes that after the liquidation of the Bolshevist 
dictatorship and the restoration of popular rule in Russia 
there is inevitably bound to come to the fore a community 
of social, political and cultural interests which will dictate 
an economic and political coalition equally advantageous 
and even indispensable to both sides. 

"4. A federal union appears to be the most appropriate 
form of such a coalition, harmonizing with the general ten- 
dencies of the historical process as well as with the cultural 
interests of mankind. 



REVOLUTION AND NATIONALITIES 95 

"5. Defending the standpoint of Russia's reconstruction 
along federal lines and having no desire to impose upon any 
one by force of arms any particular form of political con- 
nection, the Russian democracy considers a mutual agree- 
ment on a basis of liberty and equality for both agreeing 
parties as the only correct settlement of the issue." 

The task which is here set forth is not easily accom- 
plished. But the American example is there to show 
us that solution is not at all impossible. When the 
representatives of the separate states came together in 
the summer days of 1787, in Philadelphia, each state 
was hardly less zealous to preserve its independence 
than the new border states of Russia. Every precau- 
tion was taken to consider that feeling and the very- 
word "Nation" seemed to be tabooed in order not to 
provoke separatist susceptibilities. But years have 
passed since, Federal institutions have been steadily 
working for amalgamation and the result is — the great 
American nation strong in its moral ties and united 
with common bonds of growing national tradition. We 
are confident that the United States of free and re- 
generated Russia will pass through a similar process 
of evolution. 



CHAPTER V. 

THE FOREIGN POLICY OF THE BOLSHEVIKS. 

The juxtaposition of these two words: Bolshevism 
and diplomacy — is it not a most flagrant contradic- 
tion? How can it be possible that an extremist party 
whose chief business is to blow up the world would be 
permitted to treat and to sign agreements with the 
same authorities against which it conspires, thus fa- 
cilitating its task? 

Well, life is the most improbable of fictions. Life 
gives us that exhibition of a Bolshevist diplomacy work- 
ing in the open for the same aims which the Bolshevist 
agents of secret propaganda are at the same time striv- 
ing to attain under cover. Moreover, the Bolshevist 
diplomatists are not only permitted to negotiate, they 
even have their moments of triumph. Their outspoken 
way of telling everybody unpalatable truths beats all 
records of diplomatic sincerity. At the same time, they 
are very much helped by what is so often lacking in 
professional diplomacy: unity of design and complete 
consistency in carrying it out. I do not intend to give 
them much credit for that, because their aim is too 
plain and absolute and unattainable while their 
methods are too daring and reckless and irresponsible, 
to be imitated by any civilized diplomacy. It is also 
important to note that while the Bolsheviks are con- 
sistent in pursuing their aims, they do not at all claim 



FOREIGN POLICY OF BOLSHEVIKS 97 

to be consistent in their methods. They would change 
these methods and break the agreements entered upon 
as soon as they found it necessary to do so, to promote 
their chief aim. Also, they are never embarrassed when 
they change their arguments, or even when at the same 
time they use conflicting arguments in their diplo- 
matic documents and their pieces of propaganda. 
Some one may raise the objection that even in current 
diplomacy the methods of Talleyrand and Bismarck 
are not unusual and that that principle, according to 
which agreements stand only as long as conditions re- 
main the same ("rebus sic stantibus"), is regularly ob- 
served. But the Bolsheviks have carried these methods 
to the extreme. The great Bismarck once said that he 
could safely speak the truth because nobody would be- 
lieve that he was doing so. The Bolshevist diploma- 
tists have that advantage on Bismarck that they freely 
and daily speak out their main truth about the World 
Revolution — and they are believed — but the fine old- 
type diplomatists are satisfied to think that that is 
still a long way off, and that sufficient unto the day is 
the evil thereof. In contradistinction to these old- 
school diplomatists, the Bolsheviks have one great big 
job ahead of them, and they keep clear of small details 
that obscure the chief issue. Monomaniacs are some- 
times very clearsighted people, in so far as the object is 
in the immediate sphere of their vision. 

Whoever believes that the Bolshevist chief aim, i.e., 
World Revolution, can be changed — or even that they 
have already "abandoned World Revolution together 
with communism and all the other foundations of Bol- 
shevism" — has not taken sufficient stock of Bolshevism 
and is bound to be utterly mistaken in all his judg- 
ments of the Bolsheviks' deeds. But we would be 



98 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

equally mistaken were we to overlook that in their 
tactics the Bolshevist diplomatists have proved to be 
extremely keen and flexible. They knew how to learn 
from experience. In the four years of their existence 
they have thus gradually passed from the awkward 
and childish initial attempts to set fire to every piece 
of inflammable matter, to a widely spread and skill- 
fully arranged organization, led by good experts who 
know how to mark time and how to continually modify 
their preparatory steps. 

The origin of the Bolshevist diplomacy is contem- 
poraneous with their first attempts to start raising an 
international organization with the avowed aim of 
"turning the war for booty into a war of all the slaves 
against all the masters." At the beginning their anti- 
war activity was skillfully diverted by Germany to serve 
her own purposes. Russian Bolsheviks and their fel- 
low-extremists from the Allied countries were used by 
the Germans to split patriotic public opinion and to 
demoralize the armies of the Entente. However, the 
first attempts to make use of the "Second Interna- 
tional" for these aims failed, as socialist members of 
that "International" forgot their internationalism in 
the imminent national danger to their respective coun- 
tries. It was then that the chance came for the 
"Third," the extremist International, to be tried. Here, 
too, German policy ran parallel with the Bolshevist. 
The basis for the "Third International" of "anti-war 
socialists of belligerent countries," with the exclusion 
of the "social patriots," was laid down at the Zimmer- 
wald and Kienthal conferences (September 5-8, 1915, 
and April 27-30, 1916). A year of propaganda fol- 
lowed, and during 1916 the idea of transforming the 
patriotic World War into a revolutionary class war 



FOREIGN POLICY OF BOLSHEVIKS 99 

against capitalism began to spread among the popular 
masses, both in Germany and in the Allied countries. 
The Bolshevist diplomacy, in the pursuit of its own 
aims, 1 was gradually detaching itself from the German 
diplomacy. 

A revolution in Russia, whose resistance was most 
weakened, was already planned at that time. It was 
to be directly followed by a Spartacist revolution in 
Germany and — within a brief time — by the triumph of 
the French and British "comrades" in Paris and Lon- 
don. A Swiss socialist, Mr. Grumbach, recollects that 
Lenin had told him, before his return to Russia, that 
he "firmly believed in a revolution in Germany, if only 
a revolution could be first victorious in Russia." 

Then followed, for the Bolsheviks, that period of 
asserting themselves in Russia — between the March 
and November revolutions of 1917 — with which we are 
already familiar. The Bolshevist and the German di- 
plomacy again ran parallel so far as the dissolution of 
the Russian army and statehood was concerned. But 
then, after the Bolshevist coup d'etat, the time came 
for them to redeem their pledges to Germany, who had 
been giving them help. This was the first opportunity 
for a purely Bolshevist — i.e., Internationalist' — diplo- 
macy to win its first laurels. Lenin was still sure that his 
Spartacist revolution in Germany would come soon, 
while the German Government was urging peace with 
Russia. Peace was also proclaimed by the Bolsheviks; 
but, as we know, it was a different kind of peace: a 
peace with the German "proletarians" and a beginning 
of civil war with the German "bourgeois-imperialists." 
Accordingly, it was not to the German Government 

1 See for further details my book on "Bolshevism, an International 
Danger," 1920, Scribner and George Allen & Unwin. 



100 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

but to the German soldiers that the Bolsheviks ad- 
dressed themselves. "Peace is to be concluded not 
from above but from below," Lenin argued on Novem- 
ber 11, 1917, in the Central Executive Committee. 

The whole trend of the following events is explained 
and commented upon by the Bolsheviks in the light of 
their leading idea. The Germans consent to negotiate. 
It means, said Trotsky on November 19, that the gen- 
erals of the Kaiser are forced "to pass under the yoke." 
To Trotsky's great surprise, "the actual proposals of 
the German Imperialists" do not at all agree with the 
program of a "democratic peace," as formulated by 
the Russian Revolution. "We, indeed, did not expect 
such an acme of impudence." Never mind. "We shall 
have to carry through other negotiations with Germany, 
when Liebknecht is at the head of the revolutionary 
proletariat, and together with him we will readjust 
the map of Europe." But, in the meantime, General 
Hoffmann is speaking quite another language at Brest- 
Litovsk? It does not matter. "We do not consider it 
peace negotiations that we are carrying on with Ger- 
many. We are speaking to them our customary revo- 
lutionary language." With the German people we will 
carry on "other negotiations, a true diplomacy of the 
trenches." But the German generals are using that 
kind of diplomacy to increase their demands? So 
much the worse for them. "The German proletarians 
and peasants will reply with the cry of revolt." And 
they protracted negotiations for fully three months, 
waiting for a German revolution to come. 

Here came the first disappointment. The revolution 
was slow in coming. Trotsky then resorted, on Febru- 
ary 10, 1918, to a method "never used in the World's 
history." He demobilized his army and "handed over 



FOREIGN POLICY OF BOLSHEVIKS 101 

the Russian front to the protection of German work- 
men/' Mr. Zinoviev, the Petrograd dictator, reveled 
in exultation. "We dealt a terrible blow to the 
World's imperialism, when, three months ago, we began 
our peace negotiations. Now we deal that imperialism 
a deadly blow by our new formula ('neither peace nor 
war')." At Smolny, in Petrograd, a member of the 
Assembly asked: "What next?" Lenin was calm as 
he answered: "Next is the revolution in Germany." 
And the Soviet voted its approval while expressing its 
faith "that German, Austro-Hungarian, Bulgarian and 
Turkish workingmen will do their duty and will not 
permit their Governments to assail the peoples of Po- 
land, Lithuania and Courland." 

The real result was somewhat different. A week 
later, German armies invaded the Russian borderlands. 
Petrograd was in panic. On February 24, the Soviet 
capitulated. "Yes," said Lenin, "these peace conditions 
are doubly ruinous, but we have not the strength to 
resist." . . . Three weeks pass after the signing of the 
Brest-Litovsk peace (March 3) and one week after its 
ratification by the All-Russian Soviet. And Lenin, in 
an interview with a Daily News correspondent (March 
22), said: "The task of the Soviets is to hold on until 
the mutual exhaustion of the fighting groups of Euro- 
pean capital brings about revolution in all countries." 
On October 22, 1918, he repeated before the Central 
Executive Committee: "In the chain of revolutions 
-the chief link is the German one. The success of the 
World Revolution depends on it much more than on 
any other." 

These people are mad, one might be induced to say. 
Just wait a while with your judgment. There was a 
method in that madness. At the moment when these 



102 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

words were being pronounced, the German Army was 
already demoralized, and on November 11, the Armis- 
tice was concluded. What a chance for a "World Revo- 
lution" to follow! "Never before," said Lenin in the 
speech just mentioned, "was the universal proletarian 
revolution as close as it is now." A few days later, 
Zinoviev seconded him: "The bankers of France and 
of London will soon learn that a revolution in Berlin 
is not a feast but a momento mori to remind them of 
their coming perdition." And they prepared for the 
spring of 1919 an extensive scheme for revolutionizing 
the whole of middle Europe. 

Millions of Russian roubles were rushed to Germany, 
in order to promote the revolutionary movement, 
through the new Russian "Ambassador" in Berlin, Mr. 
Joffe. After the Bolshevist literature was discovered 
in a diplomatic courier's bag, Mr. Joffe had to go (No- 
vember 5, 1918). But in December another, unofficial 
envoy to the German proletarians, Mr. Radek, came, 
and in January, 1919, he concluded a formal "treaty" 
directly with Liebknecht himself. By the terms of his 
treaty, Lenin undertook to recognize Liebknecht as 
President of the German Soviet Republic, to furnish 
important funds for Spartacist propaganda and to 
order Soviet armies to take the offensive and cross the 
German frontier in support of a simultaneous Spar- 
tacist rising in Berlin. These were the same Red armies 
concerning which negotiations had been carried on a 
year before between Trotsky and Colonel Raymond 
Robbins for America and Captain Sadoul for France, in 
order to get Allied assistance and Allied instructors, to 
fight Germany. They now were to be used indeed to 
fight Germany — but with the aim of imposing com- 
munist law on Europe. Liebknecht, on his part, 



FOREIGN POLICY OF BOLSHEVIKS 103 

pledged himself to establish a Soviet Government in 
Germany immediately upon his advent to power, to 
raise a Red Army of 500,000 men to be placed under 
the supreme command of Trotsky and observe faith- 
fully and put into practice all the teachings of Lenin's 
doctrine. After a successful revolution in Hungary, 
in March, 1919, another treaty was concluded between 
Lenin and Bela Kun, his Hungarian nominee, accord- 
ing to which "up to the time of the other European 
States going over to the Soviet regime" mutual mili- 
tary and material assistance was to be accorded ; move- 
ments of troops were to be as a preliminary concerted 
"among the different Soviet States." An attack was 
designated against "the Entente, and especially Po- 
land and Rumania." When on February 12, Radek 
was arrested, in his Spartacist-Bolshevist propaganda 
bureau in Wilmersdorf (Berlin), more proofs were 
found that "a great Bolshevist revolutionary stroke 
throughout Germany had been planned to take place in 
the spring, whilst at the same time a Bolshevik army 
was to attack Germany on the Eastern frontier." This 
news was confirmed from Moscow, via Helsingfors. A 
Red army of 150,000 men was to be prepared in all 
haste to invade Germany at the end of April or the mid- 
dle of May via Poland and Courland. The next step 
was — to put on a war footing several hundred thou- 
sands of Russian war prisoners, to take the line of the 
Elbe. This plan was said to have been worked out by 
a German major a certain Busch a former prisoner 
who had declared himself a communist and played a 
prominent role in Moscow. It is interesting to compare 
with this news, the boastful declarations of the Hun- 
garian leaders after their revolution. "In three weeks," 
they were saying, "we shall have 150,000 perfectly 



104 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

equipped, trained men. In six weeks we expect to 
have 500,000 men trained. . . . We are surrounded with 
discontented peoples. . . . We shall start with Czecho- 
slovakia. . . . Then comes Rumania's turn . . . Jugo- 
slavia will follow . . . ; in three months Italy will 
come over to us. On April 8, there will be a joint meet- 
ing of Workmen's and Soldiers' Councils in Berlin. We 
have absolutely certain information that Germany will 
adopt Bolshevism. . . . How long do you think France 
will hold out? . . . Then will come England's turn. 
. . . We have every scrap of paper ready for Czecho- 
slovakia, Rumania, Bulgaria, Italy, France and Eng- 
land. No country will be able to hold out against us." 
Bolshevist preparations for the Spring of 1919 were 
not confined to the West of Europe. A revolution was 
also expected to take place at that very time in the 
East, and especially in India. The Soviet official paper, 
the Pravda (The Truth), is responsible for the state- 
ment that 4,000,000 copies of pamphlets were published 
by a special "Bureau of Mussulman Communist Organ- 
izations," during the first ten months of 1918, in the 
Tatar, Turkish, Kirghiz, Sart and Hindu languages. 
At the same time explosives and money were sent to 
Bombay by the Bolshevist representatives in Stock- 
holm, via London. A certain "Indian professor," May- 
avlevi Mohammed Baranutulla, a former German agent 
in Afghanistan during the war, formally declared in 
Moscow that "in the normal course of events this 
summer (1919) will prove decisive in the liberation of 
India." Afghanistan was considered to be "of primary 
importance for the propaganda in Asia," just like Hun- 
gary in Europe. The hopes of the Bolsheviks ran 
especially high when the new Afghan Ameer, Amanul- 
lah declared (in May) war on England. Although the 



FOREIGN POLICY OF BOLSHEVIKS 105 

Ameer was forced to ask for peace, less than a month 
after the opening of hostilities, the negotiations were 
continued between Kabul and Moscow. As late as 
August, 1919, the Muscovite diplomatists addressed a 
note to the Ameer, to inform him of the advance of 
their World Revolution. "The successes of our troops 
in the East," they declared, "hold out the promise that 
we shall soon join forces with the Siberian revolution. 
Despite all difficulties, we can safely say that victory 
will be ours, not only in Russia, but on an international 
scale." 

It is not necessary to narrate in detail, how and why 
all these great schemes fell flat. It is sufficient to men- 
tion that the invasion of Germany through the border 
states did not materialize, three successive uprisings in 
Berlin were stifled by Noske, Liebknecht was mur- 
dered, Soviet rule in Hungary was liquidated, revolu- 
tionary outbursts in Vienna and in Slovakia were stifled. 
Red armies, prepared to invade the Western frontier, 
were diverted to the side of the internal fronts in the 
North, in the East and in the South, where "white 
armies" of, the Archangel Government, Kolchak and 
Denikin were advancing. The first year of the World 
Revolution, 1919, thus passed without realizing the 
Bolshevist aspirations. But at the same time it helped 
to disclose just how widely spread their schemes were 
and how active the Bolshevist propaganda and diplo- 
macy were in pursuing these schemes. 

Facing all these preparations which, of course, could 
not be kept entirely secret, what was the attitude of 
the Allied Powers? 

The Allied diplomacy toward Russia since the Bol- 
shevist coup d'etat has passed through three stages, 
each distinctly different from the other. The first stage 



106 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

lasted from November, 1917, to March, 1918, — the 
time of the signing of the Brest-Litovsk peace. The 
second stage followed after the Bolshevist peace with 
Germany and its end came with the Allied armistice of 
November 11, 1918. The third stage begins after the 
armistice. 

During the first two periods the Allied policy was 
actuated by the interests of the World War. As long 
as there was hope that the Bolsheviks would fight on 
against Germany, or that the Brest-Litovsk peace would 
not be ratified by the Soviets, or that at least after the 
ratification the struggle against Germany would re- 
commence, the Allied Powers kept in contact with the 
Bolsheviks and promised them help and support. For 
that aim a sort of diplomatists' in partibus infideliwn 
was used. It was Captain Sadoul who, for France, 
daily visited Trotsky at Smolny, 1 and wrote long re- 
ports to Mr. Albert Thomas, which afterwards were 
published. Mr. Raymond Robbins, the head of the 
American Red Cross, was used for the same purpose 
by Ambassador Francis. Finally, the British Foreign 
Office worked through Mr. Lockhart. On December 
2, 1917, Sadoul arranged for an interview between 
Trotsky and Mr. Noulens at the French Embassy, and 
both parted "pleased with one another," after a two 
hours' conversation. On January 2, 1918, Col. Robbins 
obtained from Mr. Francis a signed statement, promis- 
ing every kind of assistance and even a recommenda- 
tion to his Government for a formal de facto recogni- 
tion, should the Bolsheviks continue the war and "seri- 
ously conduct hostilities" against Germany. Sadoul 
knew perfectly well for what purpose the Bolsheviks 

Smolny Women's College was used by the Bolsheviks as their 
Headquarters. 



FOREIGN POLICY OF BOLSHEVIKS 107 

were trying to reorganize the army. "Freed from war," 
he said in his letter of January 11, 1918, "they will 
make every effort to fight against the internal and ex- 
ternal bourgeoisie, they will organize Russia, and will 
prepare in peace time an army which will afterwards 
assist the proletariat of Central and Western Europe 
to rid themselves of the old order." Mr. Raymond Rob- 
bins also admitted subsequently, before the investiga- 
tion Committee of the United States Senate, that he 
"from the beginning was in full understanding of that 
purpose (of the World Revolution), but encouraged 
the Bolsheviks as the first attack was to be directed 
against Germany. 

At the same time, however, the Allied powers were 
preparing for other measures to paralyze the Bolshe- 
vist peace with Germany. Beginning with December, 
1919, they were engaged in parleys for intervention, to 
build up a so-called "Eastern Front" somewhere in 
Russia, in order at any rate to divert the German Army 
from being transferred to the Western Front, against 
France. Intervention — this was the meaning of the 
new stage which was to commence as soon as the hope 
for using the Bolshevist armies against Germany was 
definitely lost. The British landed in Murmansk and 
in Archangel, and the Japanese in Vladivostok. For a 
time the Allies succeeded in combining that policy with 
preserving a friendly attitude towards the Soviets. 
They even continued promising assistance to them. 
But as early as the end of April this ambiguous atti- 
tude became impossible. "Is it our intention to inter- 
vene without the Soviet or against them?" Sadoul 
asked on April 30, in behalf of Chicherin and Trotsky. 
On June 28, and on July 13, Chicherin protested against 
the advance of the British troops southwards from 



108 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

Murmansk. On June 13, the Soviet complained that 
French officers had taken part in the "White Guard" 
mutiny of the Czecho-Slovaks. And indeed, at that 
very time the first anti-Bolshevist front was formed 
at Samara and the first anti-Bolshevist government 
appeared ("The Committee of the Members of the All- 
Russian Constituent Assembly"). Thenceforth, the 
Allied effort turned to that side. The in partibus diplo- 
matists had to be dismissed : Sadoul turned Bolshevik, 
Robbins was recalled, and Lockhart began to work for 
an anti-Bolshevist movement. 

We shall have to return to that second stage of the 
Allied policy on another occasion. That stage did not 
last long. The main purpose of the Allied interven- 
tion on the new "Eastern front," namely the diversion 
of Germany's military forces to the East, disappeared 
with Germany's defeat. On August 9, the United 
States Ambassador for the last time described the Rus- 
sian people as an "Ally against a common enemy." 
After the armistice of November 11, 1918, there was 
no "common enemy" any more. The enemy of the 
Entente was defeated. The enemy of Russia, Bol- 
shevism, was considered as the "common enemy" of all 
the "capitalist" States only by the Bolsheviks them- 
selves. 

However, the Bolshevist diplomacy was sure that 
the "World Capitalism" would understand that. The 
Bolsheviks firmly believed that directly after the armis- 
tice the "capitalist" powers would turn their front 
against the World Revolution. Mr. Lenin was heard 
to say that "the situation was never so dangerous." As 
they knew the situation very well, they expected the 
blow to come — not from the North or the East, but 
from the South, as the most vulnerable point. Trotsky 



FOREIGN POLICY OF BOLSHEVIKS 109 

declared beforehand (October 12) that the Allies would 
pass through the Straits to Southern Russia and that 
the Don Region would "become the wedge of the 
World Revolution." Mr. Wilson's project to build a 
"League of Nations/' they also explained in that light. 
Lenin's comment was that here the world capitalism 
was going to form its own "International," — a counter- 
part to the "Third International" of Moscow. Two 
"fronts" opposed to each other in a mortar grip: Lenin's 
front and President Wilson's front. Such was for a 
time the favorite theme of the Red press editorials. 

Great was the astonishment of the Bolshevist leaders 
when, instead of an Allied armed force coming through 
the Straits, there came to Moscow from the Paris Peace 
Conference on January 22, 1919, a proposal to come 
and sit at the same table with the "bourgeois" diplo- 
matists and to discuss the question of peace. This 
sounded rather strange, and the first moment the Bol- 
sheviks thought they were mistaken. But the news 
was confirmed, and the Bolsheviks decided at once to 
make use of the unexpected "respite." Some objec- 
tions were raised by M. M. Zinoviev and Kam- 
enev. Would not, they wondered, the character 
of the Soviet Republic be altered and eventu- 
ally destroyed by negotiations with "bourgeois" 
governments? Lenin had a ready answer. "Periods 
of rest," he said, "are necessary for the successful de- 
velopment of the Bolshevist doctrine throughout the 
world. . . . After having conquered, as it were, two- 
thirds of the enemy territory, we must interrupt our 
offensive in order to establish new lines of communica- 
tion, organize new depots, bring up more heavy guns, 
munitions, fresh reserves. I have never hesitated," 
he went on to say, "to come to terms with bourgeois 



110 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

governments when by so doing I could weaken the 
bourgeoisie and strengthen the proletariat in all coun- 
tries. It is sound strategy in war to postpone opera- 
tions until the moral disintegration of the enemy 
renders the delivery of a mortal blow possible. . . . We 
must make peace not only with the Entente but also 
with Poland, Lithuania and the Ukraine, and all the 
other forces which are opposing us in Russia. We 
must be prepared to make every concession, promise 
and sacrifice in order to entice our foes into the con- 
clusion of this peace. . . . We shall know that we have 
but concluded a truce permitting us to complete our 
preparations for a decisive onslaught," These last 
words are confirmed by the fact that at that very mo- 
ment, on January 23, 1919, Lenin was sending round 
an invitation, by wireless, to all revolutionary "social- 
ists and communists of the Zimmerwald and Kienthal 
coloring" to come to Moscow and definitely to organ- 
ize the "Third International." We also know what 
provisions were taken simultaneously to start the World 
Revolution in the spring of 1919. Its failure to materi- 
alize has shown that Lenin's "sound strategy" of post- 
ponement and truce was the more reasonable one. 

That policy also soon became the policy of the 
Allies. In another place we shall come back to their 
policy of intervention on the anti-Bolshevist side, as it 
reflected itself in their activities in 1919. We shall 
then see the causes of the failure of that line of con- 
duct, which, however, never was consistently carried 
out. As a result of that failure, the year 1920 opened 
with the famous decision of the second Paris Confer- 
ence (January 17) to trade with the Soviets through 
the cooperatives. Two other policies still kept running 
side by side with Mr. Lloyd George's policy of rap- 



FOREIGN POLICY OF BOLSHEVIKS 111 

prochement with the Bolsheviks. I mean Mr. Clemen- 
ceau's policy of the "barbed wire" and "sanitary cor- 
don" around Russia, made of the border States, and 
Mr. Winston Churchill's policy of intervention. As a 
consequence, the Supreme Council in Paris at the same 
session recognized the de facto independence of three 
Transcaucasian Republics, while the British squadron 
was ordered to proceed from Malta to the Black Sea, 
in order to observe the movements of the Red Army in 
the direction of Persia, India and China. 

Out of the three policies mentioned, it was Mr. Lloyd 
George's policy that survived. It is true, that Great 
Britain remained alone in her desire to conclude a trade 
agreement with the Bolshevist Russia. The French 
and Belgian delegates systematically emphasized the 
hopelessness of trade relations with Russia, as long as 
the Bolshevist rule continued to exist. It was also 
clear from the very beginning that at least two of the 
three conditions which Mr. Lloyd George put to the 
head of the Bolshevist mission in London, Mr. Krassin, 
would never be complied with by the Bolsheviks. Mr. 
Lloyd George insisted on cessation of the anti-British 
propaganda by the Bolsheviks and on non-interference 
with the British interests in the East. At the same 
time, an open communist propaganda subsidized with 
Bolshevist money was being carried on in London, and 
the Red Armies were occupying Azerbaidjan, making 
an incursion into Persia negotiating with Afghanistan 
and conspiring with Indian leaders. At a later date 
they flooded Georgia and Armenia, while, on the 
Western frontier, they were approaching Warsaw. 
The Bolshevist diplomacy scorned the Allied notes 
and twice refused the invitation to come to Lon- 
don with other representatives of the Border 



112 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

States (July 11 and 28). On their part, they 
proposed to convene a conference of the Allied 
Powers on an equal footing with the Bolsheviks. As 
a condition of peace with Poland, the Bolshevist di- 
plomacy proposed the organization of a civic militia 
of workmen. It meant coming back to the basic slogan 
of a communist world revolution: "Disarm the 
bourgeoisie, arm the proletarians." 

Nothing short of a defeat of the Red Army at the 
hands of the Poles was needed to change that attitude 
of the Bolshevist diplomatists — and also that of the 
British Premier. Mr. Lloyd George finally decided to 
send away from London the Bolshevist Commissary, 
Mr. Kamenev, who was guilty of the regular Bolshe- 
vist tricks, and he suspended the "political" side of his 
negotiations. However, trade negotiations were re- 
sumed in September, 1920, and after fully nine months 
the British-Soviet Trade treaty was finally concluded. 
On the same day, Sir Robert Horn handed Mr. Krassin 
a paper disclosing some of the aspects of the Bolshevist 
propaganda in Asia. Simultaneously the Bolshevist 
diplomacy counted some minor successes in the Scandi- 
navian countries, Switzerland and Italy. 

How did all this affect the basic Bolshevist aspira- 
tion for world revolution? 

We have a series of Mr. Lenin's and his friends' 
avowals as to their mistakes in counting on an im- 
mediate advent of the world revolution. But we have 
none, as to the presumed change of the principle itself. 

"Yes, perhaps we were wrong," Mr. Zinoviev said 
at the International Communist Congress in July, 
1920. "Not one year, but two or three will be neces- 
sary for all Europe to become Soviet. You still have 
a period of grace, before you will be destroyed." On 



FOREIGN POLICY OF BOLSHEVIKS 113 

August 23, 1920, Mr. Lenin gave voice to the same 
opinion — with the same underlying hope. "We have 
learned to understand," he said, "during the last three 
years, that basing ourselves on an international revolu- 
tion does not mean calculating on a definite date, and 
that the increasing rapidity of development may bring a 
revolution in the spring (of 1921) or it may not. . . . 
We must, therefore, know how to adapt our activity to 
the mutual class relations within our own and other 
countries, that we may be able to retain the dictator- 
ship of the proletariat for a long time and, at least 
gradually, to cure all the ills and crises besetting us." 
At any rate, "the world revolution is growing stronger, 
while the economic crisis in Europe is getting worse 
at the same time." . . . "Of course, the world revolu- 
tion has made a great step forward, in comparison with 
the last year." 

World revolution was thus not lost sight of. But 
the Bolshevist diplomacy now had a much more diffi- 
cult task to solve. It had to "adapt itself" to changing 
conditions of work, instead of imposing its own solu- 
tions. And it had to use every opportunity to speed up 
the cause of the world revolution, and at the same 
time be ready to extend its activity "for a long time." 
The new instructions to the Bolshevist diplomatists, 
for 1921, which were issued by Chicherin, were formu- 
lated accordingly. Their basic__motive was: let us 
foment foreign discords and conflicts while trying to 
divert their attention for a while from Bolshevist Rus- 
sia. "We must see to it that the center of gravity is 
transferred from us to the West. Let European diplo- 
mats break their heads over the solution of problems 
that cannot be solved. We shall always manage to 
remain the decisive factor. It is not to our benefit that 



114 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

we should be feared and our power exaggerated. It is 
best for us to be temporarily in the shadow. Official 
recognition of our representatives, development of 
trade relations, gradual dissemination of propaganda 
and the strengthening of our authority among the prole- 
tarian masses — these are the aims of our work." Ac- 
cordingly, it was up to the Bolshevist diplomatists to 
bide their time and in the meanwhile not be sparing of 
concessions. "Germany is in need of moral support? 
We will furnish that. Germany needs security for her 
eastern border? That shall be promised her. France 
wants to see us helpless? Let us show her our help- 
lessness. England wants to exploit us? We shall 
grant her every opportunity to do so." At the same 
time no opportunity to breed an international conflict 
must be left unheeded. Mr. Chicherin suggested to his 
missions abroad the following combinations as worthy 
of consideration. "British-Japanese, as a threat to 
America; British-German, as a threat to France; 
Italian-Greek as a counter-balance to the policies of 
England and France in the Near East; Polish-French 
as a direct threat to Germany; Czech-Rumanian as a 
threat to Hungary," etc. "Should circumstances inter- 
fere with our activity in the West, it will then be nec- 
essary to transfer the center of our diplomatic work 
to the Balkan Peninsula and to capture the sphere of 
influence in the Near East." 

The Bolshevist agents abroad worked accordingly. 
I am in a position to give you a summary of their ob- 
servations and suggestions to the central government, 
as given in their reports in the summer months of 1921. 
In substance, it was as follows: 

So far as the West is concerned the Bolshevist ob- 
servers know that the time for a direct world revolu- 



FOREIGN POLICY OF BOLSHEVIKS 115 

tion is now over. The economic crisis upon which they 
were building their hopes is gradually settling down. 
The situation is no longer catastrophic for interna- 
tional capitalism. The post-war crisis had caught the 
working men unprepared, and they had let the mo- 
ment pass. Now they are even more disorganized than 
a year ago, in spite of the activity of the Third Inter- 
national. The observer might add that the disorganiza- 
tion has come not "in spite" of, but as a consequence 
of Lenin's orders to the Third International. In a 
word, the chance for attacking capitalism at the mo- 
ment of its greatest weakness has gone. 

This is especially true as far as Germany is concerned. 
This country, according to the Bolshevist observers, 
has shown endurance, energy and steadiness at work 
to a quite astonishing degree. In Austria the situation 
remains critical, but it is better than a year ago. In 
Hungary as well as in Bulgaria the national economy 
has now been brought to a settled condition. Great 
Britain labors under an unprecedented crisis of unem- 
ployment, but the Government keeps the nation in- 
formed on' all the difficulties of the situation, and, as 
a result, the confidence of the population in its Gov- 
ernment is not at all shattered. In France, the near fu- 
ture is gloomy. Confidence and mutual understanding 
between the nation and the Government are here lack- 
ing. Finance and economy are in a bad condition. The 
only hope lies in the resumption of trade with Russia, 
France's chief pre-war customer. But this issue is 
precluded by wrong politics. Italy is ready to trade 
with everybody on a non-political basis. But all the 
hopes which were founded on the emotional receptivity 
of the working class were deluded. The revolutionary 
enthusiasm of the Italian communists did not stand 



116 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

the test of the first serious resistance — by the fascisti. 
The bourgeoisie organized themselves for self-defense, 
and the communist groups were obliged to change their 
open propaganda for underground work. Czecho-Slo- 
vakia has proved a much stronger organism than was 
to be expected. The reason is — a deeply-rooted instinct 
for private property (sic) . A deep mutual understand- 
ing between the working men and employers precludes 
any possibility of success for the communist propa- 
ganda. National conflicts are also eliminated by a great 
degree of national toleration. Jugo-Slavia, on the con- 
trary, is a State of the lowest culture. But it is an 
agricultural country, and no class antagonisms are here 
possible. The social movement on a communist basis, 
of course, could not strike roots in such a country. 
However, national conflicts are active here and can be 
exploited in the future. Rumania is as rich and as 
patriarchal as she was before the war, and is as much 
lacking in any industrial development. But outbursts 
of national hatred are unavoidable, as a consequence of 
the recent annexations of the populations which are 
much more developed and receptive for social teach- 
ings than the original Rumanian stock. Poland's situa- 
tion is still more compromised, and a crisis is here un- 
avoidable, as a combined result of the aggressive im- 
perialism of the leading political parties, the intense 
hatred of the annexed populations towards the Poles, 
the high degree of class consciousness of the Polish 
proletariat and the extremely poor economic conditions. 
The foregoing may lead to the inference that noth- 
ing important could have been done in the West of 
Europe by the communist organizations. They were 
helping the Irish revolutionary movement, they sup- 
ported strikes in Great Britain, carried on communist 



FOREIGN POLICY OP BOLSHEVIKS 117 

propaganda in the Navy, in Manchester and Birming- 
ham. In France — they transferred their activity to 
the French African colonies, in order to tender their 
hand to the revolutionary communists in Turkey and 
thus "close" the circle. They admit that their work 
in Germany was quite unsuccessful and that the at- 
tempt at an uprising in Hall (in March, 1921) was a 
grave mistake which caused the collapse of the whole 
organization. "The German working man is too realis- 
tic and only then does he decide on action when he 
clearly sees the practical consequence of his step." 

You see that the Bolshevist agents in Western Eur- 
ope are not lacking in powers of observation. Their 
views as to the chances of communist success in the 
West are thoroughly pessimistic. But it is quite differ- 
ent with the situation in the East. 

Of course, even here they no longer hope for immedi- 
ate outbreaks. They are especially careful that their 
"trump card," a revolution in India, should not be 
spoilt by any premature and thoughtless attempt. But 
they see great opportunities for the near future: not 
in the sense of an extensive social movement, but as 
the consequence of a widely spread pro-Turkish and 
Pan-Islamic propaganda, They report that they were 
here "obliged to renounce a forcible planting of com- 
munist ideas, and have had to cover the aim of the 
Communist International under a nationalist cloak." 

They are very well satisfied with the result. "In 
1919," they say, "we had great difficulties in defending 
Turkestan from the British influence. In 1921 we are 
out to attack the capitalist buttresses in India." After 
their first congress at Samarkand and their second con- 
gress at Baku, after their last diplomatic negotiations 
at Trebizond, which ended with the conclusion of a 



118 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

treaty between Afghanistan and the Government of 
Angora (April 25, 1921), they feel sure they have 
reached the stage of "a united and powerful Mussul- 
man movement of the down-trodden nation, which will 
deal the final blow to the domination of capital and 
destroy its colonial basis." 

They particularly appreciate the Indian national 
movement, for the reason that here they find them- 
selves in their own atmosphere of social and class strug- 
gle. However, they are not at all induced by the reports 
of their communist organizations in India to believe 
that the outbreak must be undertaken just now. They 
believe, on the contrary, that a certain time must pass 
before the crisis will be reached and "the narrow na- 
tionalistic movement based on religious prejudices and 
on survivals of olden times, will be diluted in the 
powerful stream of a "proletarian uprising." 

Until then, they appreciate highly the part played 
by the Turkish national Government in Angora, and 
they state that in spite of all exertions of the British 
diplomacy, in spite even of the "partial successes" of 
Great Britain in Egypt and on the Afghan frontier, as 
well as in Southwestern Persia, they nevertheless suc- 
ceeded in arranging for cooperation with Angora. They 
are especially proud of having finished with the double 
game of Afghanistan and having caused the Afghans 
to recognize the political supremacy of Turkey in the 
great Mohammedan movement. The defensive alliance 
against foreign aggression, covered by points 4 and 8 
of the Treaty, "annuls all British achievements in the 
Afghan question and creates a situation full of menace 
for the British domination of India." 

You see that in spite of their skepticism concerning 
the West, the Bolshevist diplomatists are still very 



FOREIGN POLICY OF BOLSHEVIKS 119 

hopeful so far as the general situation is concerned. 
Their analysis of the situation in the East makes them 
again not only optimists, but visionaries. They predict 
that as a consequence of a general shifting of the World 
politics, from Europe to Asia, the Pan-Islamic move- 
ment will necessarily come to the forefront. They are 
quite sure as to their friendly contact with the Turkish 
national assembly at Angora, and they think they can 
even have "a certain influence on the trend of events in 
Asia Minor and in Eastern Africa. "At present," they 
declare, "the whole territory from the Ganges to the 
Nile may be looked upon as a united front of enslaved 
nations, fighting against their oppressors for liberty and 
national civilization. The spiritual and the organiz- 
ing center of the movement, which embraces hundreds 
of millions of Moslems, finds itself in Angora, and its 
branches are in Samarkand and in Cairo. . . . The 
diplomatic front, on which Soviet Russia defends the 
oppressed nations from the greedy hands of Interna- 
tional capital, surrounds the powers of the Entente 
with a regular half-circle from Riga to Morocco. In the 
very next days this front threatens to be converted into 
a military front. The weakest point for Eastern capi- 
tal, as represented by the Governments of the Entente, 
appears to be the Eastern frontier of (Western) Europe, 
round which the very next events will take place, which 
will mean the beginning of the end for the capitalistic 
hegemony of the victorious powers and the era of lib- 
eration for the working masses." 

This is how, in a long roundabout way, the Bolshevist 
diplomatists have succeeded in regaining their initial 
enthusiasm about the imminent World Revolution. 
"Thoughts that breathe and words that burn" are in- 
herent in their political and social creed. It is irrele- 



120 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

vant that they have taken their new commandments 
from another people's catechism. They do not ask 
themselves just what has the Pan-Islamist movement 
in common with the communist ideal. They want 
something grandiose, and here is new stuff for glow- 
ing rhetoric. The light comes from Asia! 

I am not going to discuss the problems here raised, — 
which are very serious indeed. It would make me di- 
gress very far from Russian Bolshevism. My only aim 
has been to show that now, as four years ago, the Bol- 
sheviks still stick to their great illusion. They are 
ready to sacrifice everything, to "make every conces- 
sion and promise," in order to see their vision material- 
ize and to stay in power until they enter their promised 
land. 



CHAPTER VI. 

ANTI-BOLSHEVIST RUSSIA. 

The subject of this chapter is as important for a 
general understanding of Russian events during these 
four last years, as it is complicated. Public opinion 
on the anti-Bolshevist Russia has been hardly less 
biased than on the Bolshevist regime. Of course, I 
shall try to put aside current popular judgments and let 
facts speak by themselves, just as I tried to do so con- 
cerning Bolshevism. But beside that danger of being 
— or rather seeming to be — partial, there are other 
causes which make the subject intricate. Anti-Bolshe- 
vist Russia was not one. It was divided in at least two 
different and in the main opposite political trends which 
only rarely came together. We saw the origin of their 
scission in the chapter which explained the causes of 
the Bolshevist victory. The non-socialist current held 
the moderate socialists responsible for their common 
defeat by the Bolsheviks. The Kornilov movement in- 
tensified that difference of attitudes, as it was directed 
against moderate socialism and morally supported by 
a part of its political antagonists. The scission weak- 
ened both anti-Bolshevist currents equally, and made 
easier the Bolshevist coup d'etat. 

Common defeat brought about a new stage of rap- 
prochement. For about a year (November, 1917-No- 
vember, 1918) both the socialist and non-socialist cur- 

121 



122 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

rents cooperated against Bolshevism. We shall see 
that the growth of influence of the military non-Bol- 
shevist elements marked the end of cooperation. Dur- 
ing the two following years, 1919-1920, the breach 
between the two anti-Bolshevist camps became irri- 
trievable and again, as in 1917, the scission was fol- 
lowed by defeat. The situation changed for the fourth 
time, when the military anti-Bolshevist elements defi- 
nitely broke down. A new coalition of democratic non- 
socialist and moderate socialist groups has become a 
fact from the beginning of 1921. Further events will 
show whether the reunion of democratic anti-Bolshe- 
vist forces will be lasting and will lead to success. 

To sum up, there are five stages in the relations be- 
tween the socialist and non-socialist elements of anti- 
Bolshevist Russia: 

1. Coalition — March-August, 1917. 

2. Scission — September-October, 1917. 

3. Cooperation — November, 1917 — November, 1918. 

4. Final differentiation — November, 1918-December, 1920. 

5. Coalition of democratic elements — 1921. 

A further complication is due to the fact that not 
only the mutual relations between the two elements 
of non-Bolshevist Russia were changing, but that at 
the same time the attitude of the Allies and of the 
people of Russia towards the non-Bolshevist Russia 
was also changing. This chapter will show just how 
and why. 

In the midst of these perpetually changing circum- 
stances my personal attitude also could not remain in- 
variable. It underwent an evolution, and to explain 
it to the reader would be the best means to introduce 
him to the exposition of facts. 



ANTI-BOLSHEVIST RUSSIA 123, 

I was an anti-Bolshevik from the very beginning and 
I still am. But until 1920 I belonged to that group of 
anti-Bolshevik Russians who thought it possible to lib- 
erate Russia by an armed Russian force, with the mili- 
tary help of our former Allies. I no longer belong to 
that group. 

I thought — and I still think it now — that Russia 
might have been liberated from the Bolshevist yoke 
by the military method of struggle if all the conditions 
necessary for success had been duly considered and real- 
ized in time. Unfortunately this was not the case, and 
what was possible then (1918-1919) has become impos- 
sible since. 

There were three chief causes which turned into fail- 
ure what might have been a success. These causes are : 
(1) the insufficient help from the Allies; (2) the reac- 
tionary policy of the military leaders and (3) the disap- 
pointment in them on the part of the Russian people. 

The first condition for success which did not materi- 
alize was the Allied help. I mentioned already how 
wavering and uncertain the Allied policy was towards 
Russia in distress. Now and then representative states- 
men recalled to their peoples their "obligations of 
honor" and of "mutual loyalty" towards Russia. They 
were moral obligations, as a result of the great sacri- 
fices Russia made in the war, but they were also legal 
obligations, as a consequence of that "one treaty which 
was not secret, the London Pact of October 4, 1914, 
which bound the Allied nations to make war in com- 
mon and not to make peace except in unity" (Mr. 
Winston Churchill in the Commons, Nov. 5, 1919). It 
was understood that there existed an "unbroken con- 
tinuity between the position held by the Russia anti- 
Bolshevist leaders and that position held by their (the 



124 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

British) erstwhile great ally, without whose aid they 
never could have won the war" (the same speech by 
Mr. W. Churchill). Lord Robert Cecil regarded it as 
"the foundation of good faith and of the possibility of 
sincere dealing between one country and another," that 
"the engagements towards Russia shall be carried out," 
and he thought that "no responsible politician could 
throw doubt on this principle " (May 16, 1917). Sir 
Edward Carson once more solemnly declared: "We 
shall not abandon Russia" (October 26, 1917, Le 
Temps). 

We shall see that the help that was really given to 
anti-Bolshevist Russia on the basis of that principle of 
continuation of a common struggle was selfish and in- 
consistent. But within the same cabinet there was 
another policy which paralyzed even such inefficient 
help as was actually given. It was this policy, the 
policy of Mr. Lloyd George, which finally triumphed. 
It was the policy of "hands off Russia" which for a long 
time identified itself with the policy of the Labor 
Party. Far from helping the anti-Bolshevist Russia 
on the principle of "unbroken continuity," the par- 
tisans of that policy wished to break the continuity as 
soon as possible : to recall as soon as possible the Allied 
troops still remaining in different parts of Russia, to 
stop sending munitions and, finally, to refuse every 
kind of aid. Between the two opposite principles the 
actual policy developed in zigzags. 

The second — and probably the more important — 
cause of the anti-Bolshevist failure was the reactionary 
policy of the military leaders and of their environment. 
This was also the reason why. the "hands off Russia" 
policy had the upper hand. It would not have 
amounted to much if that policy had been confined to 



ANTI-BOLSHEVIST RUSSIA 125 

mere pro-Bolshevist circles. If the Bolshevist propa- 
ganda was able to determine or to modify the policy of 
the Allied Governments, it was because large circles 
of liberal public opinion grew suspicious. The world 
which deeply sympathized with the glorious beginnings 
of our Revolution of 1917 did not at all wish to see its 
sound principles and its lasting acquisitions thrown 
overboard all along with its horrible excesses. 

There was little reason for suspicion at the begin- 
ning of the anti-Bolshevist struggle. There were reac- 
tionary elements among the "whites" but they kept 
quiet ; the enthusiasm of the Revolution was as yet too 
strong in the "white" ranks to encourage that particular 
group. All the political elements, socialistic, demo- 
cratic, liberal and conservative, stood together and there 
was no difference of opinion between them as to the ad- 
missibility of Allied help, which had not yet been called 
"intervention." However, gradually the military anti- 
Bolshevist movement degenerated into a purely reac- 
tionary movement. As a consequence, the socialist 
groups were the first to change their attitude towards 
it. They declared themselves neutral. For the Rus- 
sian non-socialist liberal democracy, to which I belong, 
it also became increasingly difficult to identify itself 
with the reactionary tendencies of the "white" move- 
ment. For a while they abstained from open criticism, 
as they did not wish to interfere with the possibility of 
a military victory over the Bolsheviks. They under- 
stood only too well that it would not be a victory of 
liberalism in Russia. But at the same time they did 
not believe in the possibility of a lasting reaction in 
post-revolutionary Russia. They found their consola- 
tion in the idea that, at least, it would be some kind of 
State that would be reestablished in Russia, while the 






126 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

very foundations of Statehood had been destroyed by 
the Bolsheviks. 

Now there came that third circumstance which made 
clear why the defeat of the anti-Bolshevist generals 
was inevitable, and it definitely changed the stand of 
the Russian democratic liberals. The Russian people 
themselves, the great silent masses, proved to be not 
at all willing to be liberated by the reactionaries, in 
whose ranks they recognized their former landlords. 

(This is where many of us had to change and to im- 
prove our view of the masses. We had thought that 
the attitude of the popular masses toward the "white" 
movement would be if not sympathetic, at least pas- 
sively neutral. But it was not. The uneducated Rus- 
sian masses, who were thought to be groping in the 
darkness, proved to be the first to understand the 
situation as it really was. For the first time many of 
us then understood how great was the evolution of 
the Russian peasants towards political consciousness, 
which was caused not by Bolshevism, but by the 
Revolution. 

Henceforth, there was no more room for doubts or 
wavering. Everybody understood that — and why — the 
military anti-Bolshevist movement had no more chance 
to win. Further bloodshed now appeared not only 
useless but criminal. One had to admit that the 
"white" movement far from being able to weaken the 
Bolsheviks was practically strengthening them, by 
keeping up the spirit of the Red Army, by giving them 
a chance to live at the expense of internal civil war, and 
also by giving the excuse of patriotism to former officers 
of the General Staff in the Bolshevist service. The 
Allied policy made good material for indignation 
against our former Allies. Their role was now ex- 



ANTI-BOLSHEVIST RUSSIA 127 

plained not as that of Allies bringing help but as that 
of foreigners bent on intervention. Help was welcome. 
Intervention was to be repudiated. 

The entire tactics of Russia's liberation had now 
to be changed. It was the new tactics that served 
as a basis for rapprochement between the moderate 
socialist and non-socialist democratic groups in 1921. 
Their common opinion now was that the liberation of 
Russia had to come about as the result of an internal 
process of change of mind in the large masses, not as 
the result of a military invasion from the outside, which 
now had definitely become impossible, both psycho- 
logically and technically. To follow closely and to help 
that internal process has now become the predominant 
aim of the Russian democratic groups. The remaining 
detachments of the former white armies were expected 
to demobilize. This idea, of course, met with resistance 
on the part of the military elements, which have defi- 
nitely broken with democracy and joined the reaction- 
ary current which works for the restoration of mon- 
archy. 

There is one more point to make before we go into 
details. Where is the anti-Bolshevist Russia? Is it 
on this or on that side of the Russian frontier? 

The anti-Bolshevist Russia is all Russia except the 
Communist Party, or rather a part of the Communist 
Party. All tendencies of the anti-Bolshevist Russia 
are to be found on both sides of the frontiers. The re- 
actionary element, of course, is more largely represented 
among the emigres. It is rare but not entirely lacking 
in Russia. The liberal and socialist political par- 
ties are much more differentiated outside of Russia, as 
a consequence of the possibility of free discussion of 
future possibilities and open expression of opinion. In 



128 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

Russia the same tendencies, with the same variations, 
also exist, but the general tone of the underground po- 
litical life is an intensely negative attitude towards the 
common enemy at present. 

* The history of the anti-Bolshevist Russia begins 
from the very moment of the Bolshevist victory. In 
November, 1917, all parties were united against the 
usurpers. The attitude of the large class of function- 
aries was that of complete abstention from coopera- 
tion with the new power: the Bolsheviks called it 
"sabotage." As long as there was any hope of the im- 
mediate overthrow of the Bolsheviks and as long as 
the means of subsistence were not entirely exhausted, 
this attitude of opposition did not change. Later on, 
some few fled away or continued their opposition in 
secret. The majority were obliged to enter the Bol- 
shevist service, but only a few entered the Communist 
Party. Most of the anti-Bolshevist functionaries that 
entered the Bolshevist service called themselves "sym- 
pathizers" (of Bolshevism) or "non-party." On the 
contrary, the resistance of the workingmen to the Bol- 
shevist regime increased with time and in the spring 
of 1918 attempts were already made for mass uprisings. 
The "Conference of Factory Workers," representing 
more than 100,000 workingmen of Petrograd, met in 
April, 1918, and demanded the resignation of the Sov- 
iets and the transmission of power to the* Constituent 
Assembly. The same demand was put forth by the 
railroad men, who threatened the Government with a 
strike. The sailors in Petrograd, who had. helped the 
Bolsheviks to their November victory, repeatedly de- 
manded the resignation of the Soviet Commissaries. 
The same regiments of the Petrograd Guards that 
brought about the November overthrow had to be dis- 



ANTI-BOLSHEVIST RUSSIA 129 

armed a few weeks later, as well as many divisions of 
the Red Army, sailors serving on mine-sweepers, etc. 
It was then that the Bolsheviks began to resort to 
hired detachments of aliens, Chinese, Letts and Hun- 
garians. 

Out of all the Russian political parties only the left 
wing of the Social-Democrats (Mr. Martov's "interna- 
tionalist" group) consented to cooperate with the Bol- 
shevist Government. All the other parties, the so- 
called "minority" of the Social-Democrats ("Menshe- 
viki" as opposed to the "majority," the "Bolsheviki"), 
the Social-Democratic group of the late Plekhanov 
("Unity"), nearly all the Social-Revolutionaries, the 
Socialists-Populists and the Constitutional-Democrats 
(the "Cadets") were opposed to the Bolsheviks. All 
the parties mentioned together represent Russian de- 
mocracy. The other, the conservative and reactionary 
(the "right") wing in Russian politics is not organized 
in political parties: such conservative and reactionary 
parties as had existed at the time of the Dumas (1907- 
1917) had been artificially built with the help of the 
Tsarist Government and broke down completely under 
the Revolution of 1917 (the "Octobrists," the "Nation- 
alists," the "Union of the Russian People," etc.) Such 
elements of them as remained were unable to join the 
democratic groups, even for the purpose of fighting the 
Bolsheviks. That is why there were two separate po- 
litical coalitions in the first half of 1918: the "Right 
Center" (conservative and reactionary) and the "Left 
Center" (the left wing of the cadets and the socialists). 

The further evolution of these groups took place in 
the middle of 1918 (May) under the direct influence 
of the Allied scheme to form a new "Eastern Front" 
(see Chapters V and XI). After the Brest-Litovsk 



130 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

Treaty some conservative and reactionary groups en- 
tered into relations with the German representatives 
in Petrograd and in Moscow. "Germanophilism" was 
traditional in these political circles, and they cherished 
the hope of making use of the Germans to restore mon- 
archy in Russia. The secret soon leaked out and the 
disclosure brought about a scission among the members 
of the "Right Center." The more liberal elements, 
which were strongly pro- Ally, detached themselves from 
the "Right Center" (which soon ceased to exist) and 
built a new and really central group which called itself 
the "National Center," and entered into negotiations 
with the Allied diplomatists (especially Mr. Noulens). 
At the same time individual members of democratic 
and socialist parties formed a bloc called the "Union 
for Russia's Regeneration," which also entered into 
official negotiations with the Allies for restoring an 
Allied front in Russia. They even proposed to the 
Allies the plan for a military campaign on Russian ter- 
ritory, with the participation of the Allied armies, 
against the Bolsheviks. In June both groups received 
from Mr. Noulens a "verbal note" in which, among 
other things, was communicated the Allied decision 
to send military forces sufficiently numerous in order 
that the struggle might be successfully carried on from 
the very beginning and a regular anti-Bolshevist army 
evolve from the small partisan detachments. I must 
add that all three political groups (reactionary, central 
and democratic) had connections with respective groups 
of officers ready to start on an open struggle. As I have 
already mentioned, that struggle was universally con- 
sidered to be a continuation^a new chapter — of the 
World War, and nobody thought that it might be 
construed as "intervention." The Bolshevist-German 



ANTI-BOLSHEVIST RUSSIA 131 

alliance was an accomplished fact; German and Aus- 
trian prisoners of war were being organized in detach- 
ments and receiving arms and munitions from the 
Allied stores. Under such conditions, Allied help to 
the anti-Bolshevist Russian forces appeared quite 
natural. 

Unfortunately, the germs of future misunderstand- 
ings were already in existence both between different 
Russian political organizations and between the Rus- 
sians and the Allies. The "Union for Russia's Regen- 
eration" insisted on a collective form of a future central 
power : a "Directory of five or, at least, three members." 
The conservative wing wished to have at the head of 
the anti-Bolshevist movement a single person, a mili- 
tary dictator with unlimited powers. There was also 
no unity of opinion concerning the part to be played 
by the .Constituent Assembly. The "Union" agreed 
that this Assembly, which had been elected after the 
November overthrow, under the influence of the Bol- 
sheviks, and which included up to 40 per cent, of the 
Bolsheviks, could not be considered, after its dissolu- 
tion by the Bolsheviks in January, 1918, as a legal 
exponent of the sovereign power of the people. But at 
the same time the "Union" was against its complete 
suppression. The moderate wing found, to the con- 
trary, that the Constituent Assembly could no longer 
function as an institution, for any purpose whatever. 
The note of Mr. Noulens tried to conciliate both views 
and it proposed a compromise. The Constituent As- 
sembly should meet only for two or three days, in order 
to sanction the newly-formed Government, to work out 
an electoral law for elections to a new Constituent 
Assembly, and then dissolve. The same note admitted 
that the new Government ought to be formed of three 



132 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

members (i. e., it accepted the form of a "directory"). 
Both political organizations, which formally declared 
themselves pro-Ally, the "National Center" and "the 
Union for Russia's Regeneration," decided at the end 
of May to accept that scheme, and they even selected 
the three members, and substitutes for them, repre- 
senting the military command and two political coali- 
tions. General Alexeiev and his candidate, General 
Boldyrev, especially acceptable to the socialists, were 
chosen to represent the former element. Mr. Avxentiev 
was to represent the "Union," and I, or, in my place, 
Mr. N. I. Astrov or, as his substitute, Mr. V. Vino- 
gradov, the Cadet member of the Duma, had to repre- 
sent the "National Center." I purposely mention all 
these details, in order that the readers may better un- 
derstand further developments and complications. 

Another source of misunderstanding, no less seri- 
ous than the difference of opinion between the Rus- 
sian political coalitions, was the difference of views 
and aims of the Allies from those of the Russians. 
The Allied intervention, as the American Gov- 
ernment stated it (see Chapter X), was intended 
rather to "make use of Russia," than "to serve her." 
The Allied promises to send sufficiently numer- 
ous armies in order to at once assure the anti-Bolshevist 
success could not possibly be kept. But the Allied 
representatives in Russia made the Russian political 
and military organizations believe it. Their immedi- 
ate aim was achieved. Serious disturbances and upris- 
ings took place in June, July and August, in provincial 
towns surrounding Moscow : Ribbinsk, Vladimir, Yaros- 
lavl and Murom. It was promised that the detach- 
ments of the Allied troops, having landed in the North, 
in Murmansk and Archangel, would come on time to 



ANTI-BOLSHEVIST RUSSIA 133 

their relief via Vologda, where the Allied diplomatic 
representatives had settled after the conclusion of the 
Brest-Litovsk peace (March). As was to be expected, 
the promised help did not come. 1 The revolts in Rib- 
binsk and Vladimir were stifled at once. Those in 
Murom and Yaroslavl succeeded, but issued in useless 
bloodshed. Yaroslavl held out for eleven full days, but 
finally fell, battered by the heavy artillery of the Bol- 
sheviks. Whole quarters of that old Russian city were 
in ruins, heaps of dead bodies lay in the streets, and the 
population blamed the Allies for having broken their 
pledge. 

However, the Allies decided, instead of their own 
armies, to make use of the Czecho-Slovak detachments, 
which had been formed of war prisoners belonging to 
that friendly Slav nation and had fought in the ranks 
of the Russian Army against their Austrian oppressors. 
They were ordered in February, 1918, to leave Russia 
and to go to the French front. At the moment when 
an "Eastern Front" was planned, this seemed very 
strange: the Czecho-Slovaks (and the Serbs) were prac- 
tically the only Allied troops who were on the spot and 
could have been a real factor in the struggle. "Why 
send these troops out of Russia," Ambassador Francis 
was wondering on March 30, 1918, "if an army is 
forming to resist the Germans?" "It would seem a 
foolish waste of time, money and tonnage to send 
troops around the world to get to the French front," 
Mr. Raymond Robbins had surmised a day before. 
The Czecho-Slovaks in the meantime were slowly mov- 

1 The original operations of French and British troops in Mur- 
mansk took place in April, on the supposition of cooperation with 
the Bolsheviks against the Germans. But by the middle of July the 
Allied forces occupied the whole of the Murman coast and moved 
southwards, via Kem, Soroki, Sumskiposad on the road to Onega. 



134 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

ing to the East on their way to Vladivostok. They had 
reached the Volga and Cheliabinsk. At Cheliabinsk, 
on May 26, the Czecho-Slovak "rebellion" began. They 
occupied the'railroad station and the city, took'up arms, 
removed and arrested the Bolshevist authorities. They 
were ordered to disarm but disobeyed the order and 
fired on the Bolshevist forces. On June 4, the four 
Allied powers declared that they would consider the 
disarming of the Czecho-Slovaks as a hostile act. At 
the same time a decisive encounter took place between 
the Czecho-Slovaks and the Reds in Penza and at the 
Rtischevo station. 

The war was thus formally begun, and immediately 
the Russian working men and the officers' organizations, 
controlled by the Social-Revolutionary Party, joined 
hands with the Czecho-Slovaks on their approach to 
Samara (June 8). A "Committee of Members of the 
All-Russian Constituent Assembly" was formed on the 
same day and a decision was reached to organize a new 
"People's Army" on the basis of voluntary enlistment. 
The Cossacks of Orenburg and the Urals joined the 
Czecho-Slovaks and the People's Army. Altogether 
they did not number many men and they were poorly 
armed. But they showed great enthusiasm and ca- 
pacity for self-sacrifice. The Commandant Alphonse 
Guinet, the French military adviser, was in Samara 
and it was his idea that a "Volga front" should be built, 
extending from Kazan to Samara, in the hope that they 
would soon be relieved by the Allies coming from the 
(non-existent) "Northern Front," near Vologda. The 
task was almost impossible to accomplish. But after 
a very strenuous effort which cost heavy losses in men, 
Simbirsk was taken (July 22) and after Simbirsk, 
Kazan (August 7), under new promises of Captain 



ANTI-BOLSHEVIST RUSSIA 135 

Borde, that the Allied army would join the anti-Bol- 
shevist force by way of Viatka. For thirty-four days 
the Czechs and the People's Army held Kazan, while 
the working men of the Ishevsk Mines captured Sara- 
pul and Elabuga, and proceeded towards Perm. Final 
success seemed to be assured, if only the Allies could 
come in time. But they could not and, what is still 
worse, did not intend to. On September 10, the small 
number of exhausted defenders gave up Kazan. In 
October the anti-Bolshevik troops had to leave Samara, 
and the "Volga front" was definitely broken up. 

They now accused the Allies of having tied them up 
to a scheme of campaign based on consciously unrealiz- 
able promises. "If we had only known," Col. V. I. 
Lebedev says, 1 "that the 50,000 Japanese and American 
soldiers who disembarked at Vladivostok did not intend 
to come to our help in the immediate future and that 
the holding of our front would be left to us and the 
Czechs, it is quite possible that instead of trying to 
open a way to Vladivostok and to build a front 4,700 
miles long and 500 miles wide, we would have concen- 
trated our forces on the Volga front and moved on to 
Moscow right after the capture of Kazan, in July 
or August. . . . We would have had enough troops 
for the advance on Moscow if we had not had to defend 
the Volga front while awaiting the arrival of the Allies." 
I leave it to the military authorities to decide whether 
the author is right or not. At any rate, his words 
express the state of mind of the anti-Bolsheviks after 
their first disappointment in the Allied help. A char- 

lu The Russian Democracy in its Struggle Against the Bolshevist 
Tyranny" (Published by the Russian Information Bureau, Wool- 
worth Building, New York). Col. V. I. Lebedev was one of the 
chief military commanders in that campaign of June-September, 
1918. 



136 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

acteristic feature of that first stage of the anti-Bolshe- 
vist armed struggle is that it is quite impossible to 
apply to it the terms "intervention" or "reaction." The 
movement was genuinely national and thoroughly 
democratic. This is also the only movement of that 
kind that developed from within Russia — of course, 
with the aid of foreign (Czecho-Slovak) disciplined 
troops — which secured a temporary success. This stage 
is unjustly forgotten, and that is why I especially 
wished to recall it in this short outline. 

In the following stages the struggle passes from cen- 
tral Russia to the outskirts: to southern and southeast- 
ern Russia, on the one side, and to Siberia on the other. 
This geographical division of areas proved as fatal to 
the success of the anti-Bolshevist struggle, as the differ- 
ences of political opinion and the inefficiency of the 
Allied help. 

The advantages and the drawbacks of the two differ- 
ent theaters of military offensive against Moscow seem 
to be quite clear at the first glance on the map. Here 
were the rich provinces of Southern Russia, the Russian 
granary, densely settled, with easy access to the Rus- 
sian center, through a railway net starting from the 
best harbors of the Black Sea and converging at Mos- 
cow. It is true that access to the Black Sea through 
the Dardanelles was closed to the Allies until the armi- 
stice (Nov. 11, 1918). But actual intervention de- 
veloped after that date. On the other hand, there were 
the three harbors most remote from Moscow, Mur- 
mansk and Archangel in the North of Russia, Vladi- 
vostok in the Far East. They could have been easily 
controlled by the Allied fleets, but they were most 
inappropriate starting points for operations on land. 
They were connected with the interior by single rail- 



ANTI-BOLSHEVIST RUSSIA 137 

way tracks passing through deserts very scantily peo- 
pled and possessing no local resources. Sufficient sup- 
plies could not be secured at such enormous distances 
from the base, with the constant danger of the railway 
lines being cut at the rear by the enemy's partisans. 
Again, it was quite natural that these ports should 
have been occupied by the Allies during the war time, 
but it was only by force of inertia that they still con- 
tinued to use them for the new schemes of intervention 
after the armistice. As a result the attention of the 
Allies was persistently concentrated on Siberia and 
Archangel, while the greatest hope of military success 
lay with the operations in Southern Russia, Whatever 
was the reason of that aberration, — lack of knowledge 
and understanding, lack of sympathy with the under- 
taking, short-sighted selfishness, a blind game of chance, 
— the result was bound to be a. failure. 

Let us now come back to the anti-Bolshevist activ- 
ities in Southern Russia, They developed directly after 
the Bolshevist victory in Petrograd and in Moscow, 
in November, 1917, and they were quite independent 
from the anti-Bolshevist movement in the interior of 
Russia, In the very first weeks after •the overthrow, 
in November and December, 1917, the defeated politi- 
cal and military groups that wished to pursue an open 
struggle against the Bolsheviks were gathering in the 
land of the Don Cossacks, in their capital, Novocher- 
kassk, and in the large commercial city of Rostov at 
the mouth of the Don River. General Alexeiev, the 
former Commander-in-Chief, had come, and he worked 
out the first plans for building a Volunteer Army. I 
personally took part in his first negotiations for help 
with the British, French and American representatives. 
I must add that at that time no help was given, except 



138 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

from France through Rumania. A little later on, Gen- 
eral Kornilov liberated himself from his seclusion at 
Bykhov, in which he had been kept by the Provisional 
Government after his unsuccessful uprising against 
Kerensky (see Chapter II). He came to Novocher- 
kassk accompanied by his fellow generals, imprisoned 
with him, Denikin, Markov and others. At once two 
centers of influence were formed, as there was a good 
deal of difference between Alexeiev and Kornilov. 
General Alexeiev, a wise old man, very cautious in his 
plans, with broad views and great experience, was 
capable of appreciating the whole political situation 
and not only the military side of it. He understood 
perfectly that as things stood, a military movement 
against the Bolsheviks had to be based on a political 
platform capable of uniting all political groups, repub- 
lican and monarchist, radical and conservative. He 
also saw the importance of basing the political pro- 
gram on the recognition of the leading principles of 
the March Revolution of 1917. The task was easier 
then than it has become since, as the recollections were 
very fresh in everybody's mind as to the part Gen. 
Alexeiev and other military leaders had played in the 
initial success of that Revolution. However incensed 
the officers might have been against Kerensky's policy 
towards the Army, they still were able to. discriminate 
between a man's personal faults and the great ideas 
he represented. To be sure there were people at Novo- 
cherkassk who already were filled up with white rage 
and hatred against the Revolution as such. But these 
people for a time kept silent. Their hero was Kornilov. 
But Kornilov still called himself a republican and was 
not fit to become the center of an openly reactionary 
movement. First and foremost, he was a soldier, in- 



ANTI-BOLSHEVIST RUSSIA 139 

trepid, daring in enterprise, rash in decisions, despising 
politicians and politics, but naive enough to succumb 
to the chance influence of some haphazard adviser 
clever enough to flatter the General's ambition and to 
suggest a scheme which would be taken up as his own 
and executed with iron will. A "lion's heart but a 
sheep's head," as Kornilov was disparagingly charac- 
terized by one of his competitor-generals, he was just 
a contrast to Alexeiev, and they intensely disliked each 
other. General Kornilov, who had enjoyed the confi- 
dence of his mates at the Bykhov seclusion, gradually 
took the precedence, while General Alexeiev was re- 
moved to the second place. This was the origin of 
the prevailing influence of the military elements over 
the civil and political ones, in the policy and tactics 
of the Volunteer Army. From the very beginning the 
Generals did not understand that it was guerrilla war- 
fare they had to carry on, and that the first condition 
for its success was to attend first and foremost to the 
interests of the population which was to be liberated. 
The great majority of them were satisfied to find them- 
selves again, after the severe experiences of the revolu- 
tionary period, in their own sphere of an army organ- 
ization built on the customary pattern, with its old 
discipline restored. They at once started building huge 
staffs each with a numerous personnel, the traditional 
red tape, etc. They did not see that they had almost 
no regular soldiers under their command, but only a 
few hundred young officers and "cadets" who like them- 
selves had fled away from the Bolsheviks and, in their 
youthful enthusiasm, were ready to play the part of 
soldiers and, accordingly, to undergo soldiers' priva- 
tions. 
The situation was the more complicated by the fact 



140 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

that the few "Volunteers" with the many Generals at 
their head were practically guests in a territory which 
did not at all desire to take their orders. It was the 
land of the Don Cossacks. It would be a great mistake 
to associate that name with the old reputation of the 
Cossacks as being the most reactionary defenders of 
the Tsars. The Cossack region belongs to the most 
democratic parts of Russia. The rank and file Cos- 
sacks still constitute the most influential social layer 
here and possess their landed property in common. 
They have preserved their military organization and 
since the Revolution they have restored the old custom 
of periodically electing their "Ataman/' who is the head 
of the executive power but is responsible before the 
Cossack "Krug," a largely democratic popular assembly 
which meets at irregular intervals. The Don Cossacks 
are Great Russians and, with all their love for local 
autonomy, they are stalwart partisans of Russian unity. 
A part of the Kuban Cossacks are Little Russians (the 
Ukrainians) and they are more inclined to separatism. 
The Cossack strivings for autonomy and the lack of a 
local aristocracy of big landowners (the few who were 
there were forced to leave their estates under the Rev- 
olution) had for quite a time brought the Cossacks in 
contact with the Russian liberals and made them abhor 
the former Tsarist centralization. They now wavered 
between social radicalism and political moderation. 
Their younger generation, just coming from the disor- 
ganized Russian front, partly grew pro-Bolshevist, but 
they found themselves at variance with their fathers, 
mothers and wives, who had remained in their "stanit- 
sas" (the name of the .Cossack large village). The is- 
sue was uncertain and everything depended on the re- 
sult of that internal moral struggle. The appearance 



ANTI-BOLSHEVIST RUSSIA 141 

of the Volunteer Army under these conditions was 
looked upon askance. Radical groups of the population 
considered them as intruders and potential reaction- 
aries. Moderate groups did not dare to take up their 
defense openly. The first Ataman elected, the chival- 
rous General Kaledin, was a warm partisan of the 
Kornilov movement, but he was also a thoroughly 
democratic representative of his region. He most will- 
ingly gave hospitality to the "White Generals" and 
their Volunteers, and he tried to help them enlist as 
many Cossacks as he could. But here he met with the 
radical evolution of mind in the midst of the Cossacks 
and he soon lost confidence in his own authority. The 
moral tragedy of that noble character was that of the 
whole of Russia. On the one side there was the neces- 
sity of building a strong military power to save Russia; 
on the other — the fact of democratic tendencies of the 
population, evolving into Bolshevism and decidedly 
opposed to the mission .of the Volunteer Army. 

Under such conditions, the position of some 300 
young officers gathered at Novocherkassk and Rostov, 
in the midst of a population which was partly indiffer- 
ent and partly openly hostile, soon became untenable. 
Early in December, 1917, they had a chance to prove 
their usefulness to the population, by stifling a Bol- 
shevist uprising in Rostov. By January, 1918, they 
numbered about 3,000. But their very success drew 
the attention of the Bolsheviks to them, and a Red 
Army numbering about 100,000 gradually surrounded 
Rostov. The population positively did not wish to 
enlist and to help. It was no use to fight on. On 
February 23, 1918, the "Volunteer Army" began its 
famous retreat to the Steppes. A few days before, Ata- 
man Kaledin had committed suicide in his palace at 



142 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

Novocherkassk. The Bolsheviks were approaching. 
They took possession of the Don with their usual se- 
verities. 

Two months later, at the end of April, 1918, the 
"Volunteers" came back covered with laurels but — 
without Kornilov. Their first campaign, the so-called 
"Icy Campaign," has remained in the recollection of its 
participants as a glorious and heroic effort. And, in- 
deed, it was the period of high-spirited enthusiasm for 
the cause in that small group of glowing patriots who, 
without any prospects for the future, misunderstood 
and repudiated by the surrounding majority, still risked 
their lives for their country and, although accustomed 
to civilized comfort, did not resent any strain, privation 
and suffering. However, they were few, these heroes 
who came back alive from the "Icy Campaign." They 
were about one thousand. A full third of the army* 
had perished during those two months of incessant 
fighting. General Kornilov was killed by a bomb on 
March 31, during the attempt to besiege and to take 
Ekaterinodar, the Kuban capital. The whole under- 
taking was hopeless and reckless in its substance. The 
first thing that the young General Denikin did, when 
he took up the command, was to have these worn-out 
young officers, who served as soldiers, seated on the 
cars requisitioned from the population and brought 
back to the Don. The greatest positive result of the 
retreat from Rostov was to preserve the nucleus of an 
anti-Bolshevist army up to the moment when the coun- 
try could use it. 1 

And, indeed, circumstances and the psychology of 

'The description of the "Icy Campaign" is given in a leaflet by 
Prince P. M. Volkonsky: "The Volunteer Army of Alexeiev and 
Denikin"; No. 7, Russian Liberation Committee, London, 1919. 



ANTI-BOLSHEVIST RUSSIA 143 

the population had completely changed by April. In 
the first place, the whole Black Sea coast and the whole 
of the Ukraine was now taken by the Germans, who 
had driven the Bolsheviks far to the north. In the 
second place, the Cossacks of the Don and of the Ku- 
ban now knew what Bolshevism was. A universal 
uprising took place in April in the Cossack "stanitsas" 
and the Bolshevist elements were exterminated with 
the greatest embitterment. Returning Volunteer Army 
men were now greeted as liberators. The Cossacks 
were ready to join the ranks, and in June, 1918, the 
Volunteer Army was four times stronger than it had 
been in March. It numbered up to 12,000. By the 
middle of July, thanks to its junction with the Kuban 
Cossacks and a regular mobilization in the "stanitsas," 
the Army had become a force of 30,000 men. By Oc- 
tober, 1918, it had gradually increased to about 100,000 
men, extended over a front of about 200 miles. This 
w T as practically a Cossack army as the Cossacks con- 
stituted up to 80 per cent, of it. Ekaterinodar was 
finally taken from the Bolsheviks on August 2. It now 
became the capital of the Volunteer Army. The pos- 
session of the port of Ekaterinodar, Novorossiisk, 
opened the road to the sea, and the Volunteer Army was 
able to get into touch with the Allies. Unfortunately, 
the health of General Alexeiev had been definitely 
shaken by the "Icy Campaign" and on September 25, 
he died. The Supreme Command of the army passed 
entirely to General Denikin. In questions touching 
politics and civil administration he consulted the "Spe- 
cial Council attached to the Commander-in-Chief," 
which, however, had no power to decide and to legis- 
late by itself. The principle of military dictatorship 
was fully preserved and all attempts at a "constitu- 



144 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

tional" division of powers were relentlessly checked. 
Relations with the Kuban hosts soon became very much 
strained, as it was exceedingly difficult to draw the 
line between the "Volunteer" organization which 
claimed to be a nucleus of an "All-Russian" power but 
had only a few strips of territories (Stavropol and 
Chemomorsk) under its direct control, and the Kuban 
or the Don local administrations which wished to pre- 
serve as much as possible of their de facto independence. 
These were the germs of the coming difficulties, and 
in both questions of the "All-Russian" and the autono- 
mous local administration the leaders of the Volun- 
teer Army were already drifting from the only possible 
and really unbiased attitude that might have kept 
them in harmony with the political ideas and social 
forces promoted by the March Revolution of 1917. 

The military side of their success in the Northern 
Caucasus was closely connected with the general situa- 
tion in Southern Russia in 1918, a fact which they al- 
most completely overlooked. But this time they had 
their excuse in their "pro- Ally" orientation. The Cau- 
casus was separated from the Bolsheviks with two large 
regions which were now free: the Don Cossacks' region 
and the Ukraine. But both had been liberated with the 
aid of the Germans. German military authorities sat 
in Kiev and in Rostov. Austro-German garrisons, 
whose numbers varied from 600,000 to 150,000 were 
keeping all Southern Russia and the Crimea in order. 
At the same time, a national Ukrainian Government 
had been built with the German help in Kiev, under 
the "Hetman" Skoropadsky. The Austrian idea of 
detaching the Ukraine from Russia had been taken up 
by Germany. Skoropadsky, a Russian General and 
formerly a good Russian patriot, had been induced to 



ANTI-BOLSHEVIST RUSSIA 145 

play the extremely complicated game of Ukrainian in- 
dependence, while every alley was left open as to the 
future of the newly built State. Russia, Bolshevist or 
National, Germany, Austria, several Ukrainian parties, 
— they all had their own policies which were thoroughly 
inconsistent with that hope of becoming the head of 
a new dynasty with which Skoropadsky's ambition was 
nurtured. In the Ukraine the Germans were trying to 
lay their hands on the economic resources of the coun- 
try. In the neighboring Don region they were satis- 
fied with a very loose control over Ataman Krasnov's 
activities. On certain conditions they supplied him 
with arms and ammunition, part of which he was selling 
to the Volunteer Army. A kind of matter-of-fact mili- 
tary cooperation against the Bolsheviks existed between 
the Germans, Skoropadsky, Krasnov and Alexeiev- 
Denikin. I personally tried to transform it into a sys- 
tematic common offensive. My correspondence with 
General Alexeiev to that effect was recently published. 
The German military authorities in Kiev were also in- 
terested in that scheme of overthrowing the Bolsheviks, 
but they were unwilling or powerless to change the 
German general policy towards Russia. On their part, 
the Volunteer Army looked at the activity of Skoro- 
padsky and Krasnov as traitorous towards the Allies, 
and the anti-Bolshevist movement inside Russia was, 
as we have seen, closely associated with the Allies. 
Under such conditions, the Germans dropped the idea 
of a rapprochement with Alexeiev, and proceeded to 
build in the Ukraine, in Pskov and in Astrakhan the 
nuclei of new Russian anti-Bolshevist armies, formed 
of the most reactionary elements. It is difficult to say 
what the outcome of such beginnings might have been, 
because very soon the Germans were defeated and asked 



146 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

for an armistice. The second chance to liberate Russia 
— from the South — thus came to naught. 

The Russian political parties working in the Ukraine, 
the Don and the Caucasus then decided to make direct 
representations to the Allies. All the political groups 
already mentioned, the more advanced "Union for the 
Resurrection of Russia/' the "National Center" which 
was especially influential at Denikin's headquarters, 
and the conservative groups newly reconstructed in 
Kiev, sent their mission to the Allied representatives in 
Rumania and, later on (December, 1918), via Constan- 
tinople, to Paris and London. The leading idea was 
to save Southern Russia after the armistice from a new 
invasion of the Bolsheviks. It seemed natural, before 
embarking on the liberation of Central Russia, at least 
to preserve such important parts of Russia as already 
were free from the calamity with which they were now 
menaced. The aim of the intervention which was be- 
ginning on the Volga and in Siberia could also be bet- 
ter attained and at less effort and expense if Southern 
Russia were used as a starting point. The armistice 
agreement foresaw the right of the Allied forces to come 
and to take the place of the retreating Germans. What 
had been easy for the latter — to keep order in the 
Ukraine — would have been still easier for the victorious 
Allies. Without a shot, the best part of Russia could 
have been thus preserved in order, and a chance given 
for the formation in the South of a real national army. 
Anti-Bolshevist Russia, in such a case, would have been 
able to cope with the Bolsheviks with her own forces, 
without any military intervention. 

We (I was a member of that mission) were success- 
ful in our negotiations in Rumania, in the Balkans and 
in Constantinople. A few divisions were ready to be 



ANTI-BOLSHEVIST RUSSIA 147 

sent to Southern Russia via Salonica, and there were 
ships enough to transport them to Russian harbors. 
But no sanction was given to these schemes in Paris 
and in London. The motives leaked out at a discus- 
sion between the heads of the Allied Governments in 
Paris, a few weeks later (Jan. 16, 1919). Both Mr. 
Lloyd George and President Wilson had received in- 
formation from their experts that the Allied troops in 
Europe were unwilling to stay there longer, that 
troubles had already occurred amongst the Canadians 
and other troops. "If the British tried to send any 
more troops there would be mutiny," Mr. Lloyd George 
concluded. The 150,000 men we asked for (the request 
was also supported by General Franchet d'Esperey 
and by M. Scavenius) was declared to be an insufficient 
number. Mr. Lloyd George thought that at least 400,- 
000 were required. His general view was that "the 
mere idea of crushing Bolshevism by a military force 
was pure madness.'' On a false report that the Bol- 
sheviks were ready to come to terms, he proposed to 
"summon these people to Paris . . . somewhat in the 
way that the Roman Empire summoned the chiefs of 
outlying tributary States to render an account of their 
actions." In his February speech before the Commons 
Mr. Lloyd George used another simile, equally humili- 
ating: He compared the fighting "factions" in Russia 
with the turbulent tribes on the Northwestern frontier 
of India which had to be brought to reason by some 
Commissioner, "to avoid the costly expedition." A 
little more knowledge in the matter would have shown 
that the only means to avoid the really costly expedi- 
tions which followed was to accept the advice that was 
rejected. With its rejection the third chance to help 
Russia to her speedy recovery was left unused. Di- 



148 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

rectly afterwards the Ukraine was actually occupied by 
the Bolsheviks. 

We now come to the year 1919, the period of a be- 
lated but real Allied intervention in the anti-Bolshevist 
struggle. This time it was not small groups of par- 
tisans, but large and disciplined armies which were 
fighting against the Soviets. Munitions and arms, at 
least at the end of that period, were also not lacking. 
But there was also a Red Army on the Bolsheviks' 
side, while on the side of the anti-Bolsheviks there was 
the damaging policy of reaction. The whole psychol- 
ogy of the situation was now different from that of 
1918. 

It was in Siberia that the conflict between the two 
wings of the anti-Bolshevist parties broke out in the 
open. In Southern Russia the conflict also existed, 
in a latent stage, but owing to the authority of Gen. 
Alexeiev and Gen. Denikin the reactionary extremists 
were kept well under control. In Siberia, the attitudes 
of the reactionary officers and the old regime officials, 
on the one side, and of the socialistic parties — which 
were predominant in the self-governing bodies — on the 
other, were so mutually uncompromising that clash was 
bound to come at the first encounter. The situation 
was complicated by the fact that there, as well as in 
Southern Russia, there existed a strong antagonism 
between the local autonomous strivings and the "All- 
Russian" program of liberation brought to Siberia by 
both the socialist and reactionary parties. Local Si- 
berian patriotism turned, in the first place, against the 
socialist "All-Russian" Government, and afterwards 
against the non-socialist Government of Kolchak, 
which was equally "All-Russian," not Siberian. Ac- 
cordingly, the local opposition changed color — or, 



ANTI-BOLSHEVIST RUSSIA 149 

rather, at different stages it originated from different 
groups. It was conservative against the socialists, and 
radical against Kolchak. Last, but not least, there 
was one more influential factor in Siberia: the Czecho- 
slovaks who played here, at the side of the Russian 
anti-Bolsheviks, the part played by the Cossacks in 
Southern Russia, at the side of the Volunteer Army. 

They also formed the backbone of the anti-Bolshevist 
forces, and their cooperation or abstention decided mili- 
tary success or failure. The Czecho-Slovaks were much 
more dissatisfied with the reactionary policy of the 
anti-Bolshevist leaders than the Cossacks, and in a 
much more decisive way they took sides with the radi- 
cal anti-Bolsheviks. Moreover, they felt much more 
free to stay or to go, as the fate of their country did 
not depend on the issue of the struggle. The Cossacks 
also regularly became homesick and preferred to leave, 
when they had to fight outside their own territories, 
but they were unable to separate their own cause from 
that of the liberation of Russia, while the Czechs did 
it at the first opportunity. This parallel explains to a 
great extent the difference in the trend of events in Si- 
beria and in Southern Russia, while evolving practically 
from the same elements and winding up with the same 
results. 

We noted military successes of the anti-Bolshevist 
"People's Army" on the Volga (June-August, 1918), 
which were due to the help of the Czecho-Slovaks, and 
we also noted their final collapse (September-October) 
caused by the absence of the more substantial help 
promised by the Allies. Siberia was liberated from the 
Bolsheviks at the beginning of that period, and it re- 
mained anti-Bolshevist up to the end of 1919. 

However, the method of liberation was here different 



150 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

from that on the Volga. The basic feature in common 
was the participation of the Czecho-Slovaks who, as 
we know, were scattered over the entire length of Si- 
beria's railroad lines, from the Urals to Vladivostok. 
But instead of the democratic "People's Army" organ- 
ized by the Social-Revolutionaries from Samara, the 
task of the overthrow was taken up by the secret organ- 
izations of the officers who were incensed against the 
socialists because of their part in the Revolution and 
especially in the suppression of the Kornilov uprising. 
Backed by the Czechs, who numbered about 40,000 men, 
the officers' organizations, led by Colonel Grishin-Al- 
mazov, easily set free the chief towns on the railway 
line (June, 1918), as the Bolshevist power in Siberia 
had not had time*to strike root in the peasant popula- 
tion and was not supported by the burgesses. But 
then they found that a "Government of 'autonomous 
Siberia"* was already in existence. It had been elected 
as early as January 26, 1918, at a secret meeting of a 
few members of the "Siberian Regional Duma" (20 
out of 150) in Tomsk, at the very moment when that 
Duma was dissolved by the Bolsheviks. The composi- 
tion of that Siberian Government was too radical for 
the officers. But the most radical members had fled 
from the Bolsheviks to Vladivostok, and on June 30, 
the more moderate five (out of fifteen) proclaimed 
themselves at Omsk a legal Siberian Government pos- 
sessing sovereign power over the whole Siberian terri- 
tory. This was the first coup d'etat, which, however, 
did not quite satisfy the officers, as the five ministers 
were still under suspicion of sharing socialistic views. 
However, the bourgeois groups approved the decisively 
anti-Bolshevist decrees of the new Government, while 
the socialists were placated by the Government's prom- 



ANTI-BOLSHEVIST RUSSIA 151 

ise to convoke the "Regional Duma," Social-Revolu- 
tionary in its majority, for a new session on August 15. 

There were now two anti-Bolshevist Governments: 
that of Samara, which insisted on its being recognized 
as "All-Russian" and as basing its power on the Con- 
stituent Assembly of 1917, and that of Omsk, which 
swore allegiance to the white-green banner of the "in- 
dependent" (or, at least, autonomous) Siberia and did 
not wish its power limited even by that of the Siberian 
"Regional Duma." 

The Czecho-Slovaks insisted on the building of one, 
single All-Russian Government. Under their pressure, 
after two preliminary conferences in Chaliabinsk, on 
15-16 July and on August 23, the representatives of 
all the local Governments and all the political groups 
met in September in Ufa. The Social-Revolutionaries 
were in the majority (more than 100 out of 200), but 
it was decided that all resolutions should be adopted 
unanimously. It was just the moment when the Volga 
front was definitely crumbling, and the Czecho-Slovaks 
threatened to leave the front and Siberia if there should 
be no agreement. A compromise was finally reached, 
and a Provisional All-Russian Government elected on 
September 23, 1918, partly formed of the candidates 
chosen by the political groups in May in Moscow. 1 
Omsk was selected as the seat of government, and until 
January 1, 1919, when the Constituent Assembly was 
supposed to meet, the "Directory" was invested with 
the supreme power. 

But two days before, on September 20, a second coup 
d'etat had been carried out in Omsk by the reactionary 

*N. D. Avxentiev; N. I. Astrov (substitute, V. Vinogradov); Gen. 
V. Boldyrev (substitute, Gen. Alexeiev) ; N. V. Chaikovsky (substi- 
tute, Zenzinov), and Mr. Vologodsky (the Siberian Premier). Vino- 
gradov and Zenzinov took the places of the absent two. 



152 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

officers, in order to "save the country from the per- 
nicious influence of the socialist ministers." The Si- 
berian ministers suspected of extremism had just come 
to Omsk from the Far East. Two of them were ar- 
rested, and the third (Novosselov) was killed by the 
officers. The Regional Duma was dissolved. This 
time the Czecho-Slovaks decided to intervene on the 
side of the socialists, and they arrested the acting Min- 
ister of the Interior. The conflict was solved by a 
compromise, pending the arrival in Omsk of the All- 
Russian "Directory" chosen in Ufa. 

The Provisional Government arrived on October 9. 
They found an extremely heated atmosphere. Lengthy 
negotiations ensued between the "supreme power" just 
recognized, and the Siberian ministers. The Directory 
made all the concessions that proved necessary: they 
guaranteed the Siberian autonomy, promised a peaceful 
self-dissolution of the Regional Duma, nominated nine 
former ministers (out of 14) to take part in the new 
cabinet. Among the newly-nominated ministers was 
Admiral Kolchak. Avxentiev expected to be soon rec- 
ognized by the Allies. . . . 

The military group now decided to prepare for a 
third coup d'etat. The candidate for a dictatorship 
was ready in the person of Kolchak. The last meas- 
ure to take was to show Kolchak, who had recently 
come to Omsk from the East, to his army. He went 
to the front and came back on November 16. In the 
night of Nov. 18, Avxentiev and his colleagues in the 
Directory were arrested by the officers. It is now 
known that the British military attache, Gen. Knox, 
then in Omsk, approved of the overthrow. The Coun- 
cil of Ministers endorsed the accomplished fact. After 
a short and embarrassed discussion all decided for a 



ANTI-BOLSHEVIST RUSSIA 153 

dictatorship and against the "Directory" as the form 
of government, and all voted for Kolchak, as the "Su- 
preme Ruler." 

A year 'later, in his deposition before the Bolshevist 
tribunal which sentenced him to death, Admiral Kol- 
chak recognized that the coup d'etat of Nov. 18, 1918, 
was a political mistake. One might add that the mis- 
take was not his own, and that it was much more than 
a mistake. The events in Siberia which are just de- 
scribed make it clear why Russia could not be liber- 
ated by the anti-Bolshevist forces. Both socialists and 
non-socialists had not yet fully learned their lessons. 
The mistakes of 1917 were not yet forgotten and for- 
given to the socialists. The non-socialists were just 
committing their own mistakes, and thus the cause for 
which they fought was doomed to lose. Moreover, with 
the coup d'etat of November 18 a turning-point was 
reached after which even that kind of very imperfect 
cooperation that had existed between the two anti- 
Bolshevist groups since November 7, 1917, definitely 
broke down. The military element was left to itself 
and has made itself an exponent of social groups and 
tendencies of the old regime. The socialist element has 
not yet detached itself from its extremist connections. 
Between the two extremes, the right wing of the So- 
cial-Revolutionaries and the left wing of the Constitu- 
tional-Democrats, i.e., the very elements that were 
united in the "All-Russian" Government of Avxentiev, 
might have been able to form a democratic center. 
But these elements were as yet few and powerless to 
combat the prejudices of their opponents on both ex- 
treme wings of public opinion. The Allied representa- 
tives might also bring the help, but they did not know 
again, as had been the case in 1917, where to find that 



154 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

center. In May, 1918, M. Albert Thomas had helped 
to enthrone Kerensky. In November, 1918, Gen. Knox 
ousted Avxentiev. A coalition had been formed when 
it was dangerous for the success of the Revolution. It 
was now destroyed just at the time when it was vital 
for the liberation of Russia. 

Who was Kolchak? I came to know the man in 
1908, under characteristic circumstances. I was a mem- 
ber of the democratic opposition in the Third Duma, 
and he was a young and brilliant naval officer, fearless, 
learned and deeply patriotic. He fought for a program 
of reconstruction of the Russian fleet, which had been 
destroyed at Tsushima, and, quite exceptionally in his 
position, he was not afraid to address himself to the 
group of deputies then considered to be most dangerous 
revolutionaries by the Government. Like General 
Alexeiev, he was among the first to recognize the March 
Revolution of 1917, as Commander-in-Chief of the 
Russian Black Sea Fleet. Like Denikin, he struggled 
as long as possible against the dissolution of the na- 
tional armed forces and he did not wish to serve the 
government of Kerensky, who was generally accused 
of being responsible for that dissolution. Hence his 
hatred against the Social-Revolutionaries. 

The group of officers which sought for a dictator had 
singled him out to play the part which a little later 
Kornilov was induced to play so unsuccessfully. Kol- 
chak's sense of duty and readiness for self-sacrifice 
might have impelled him to listen to their appeal, but 
there was something in him which did not permit him 
to accept. He followed the advice of some political 
friends — to save himself for the future — and left for 
America on a special invitation. His appearance in the 
Far East is surely connected with the decision of the 



ANTI-BOLSHEVIST RUSSIA 155 

Allies to intervene, and he was doomed to pass through 
all the vicissitudes of that intervention, which here 
showed itself at its worst. At the very beginning of it 
Kolchak repudiated being a weapon of Japan, unlike 
Semenov (see Chapter X), and he returned from East- 
ern Siberia to Tokio. He was ready to fight the enemy 
under the British in Mesopotamia, but on his way there 
he received a new call and came back to Western Siberia 
in the Autumn of 1918 when intervention had become 
a general (as opposed to purely Japanese) Allied un- 
dertaking. I am rather inclined to think that 'he knew 
what was being prepared for him by General Knox 
(who had met him in August, 1918, in Tokio) and by 
the reactionary officers for November 18. A man of 
vioble character and heart, he was, however, a fresh- 
man in politics and thus bound to depend on other 
people's opinions for arriving at the most important 
and responsible political decisions. He had no per- 
sonal ambition and there was not a jot of the dictator 
in him. The reputation of an "iron will" did not at all 
correspond with his real nature, extremely sensitive and 
refined. But he felt it his duty to play in all conscience 
the part he was given, and he patiently wore his mask. 
Like his southern colleague, Denikin, he was unable to 
make use of his strongest side, his military knowledge 
and talent. The daily business of a supreme ruler was 
so cumbersome and the details of it were so new to 
both that their complete attention was absorbed, and 
the real direction of affairs, concerning the civil admin- 
istration as well as concerning military operations, 
gradually slipped out of their hands. Kolchak, as he 
grew aware of it, became extremely nervous, and he 
vainly tried to supply with outbursts of wrath — which 
became more and more frequent — what was lacking in 



156 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

steady design and in firmness of will and purpose. 
Denikin, more disciplined and equilibrated, tried to 
remain equal to the task, and he submitted to the in- 
evitable and fatal in his situation with equanimity and 
even with a certain sense of humor. But the result was 
the same: a growing contrast between claim and 
achievement, — the showy display of a resuscitated 
" All-Russian" Government and an extremely poor re- 
ality upon which it was artificially built. This also 
explains why both political structures, which seemed 
so solid for a few moments, crumpled so rapidly and 
so completely to the very foundations. 

On the face of it, the Omsk Government looked so 
firmly established indeed that most of its members and 
adherents at once felt transported to their customary 
atmosphere of a normal statehood and acted accord- 
ingly. The " Supreme Ruler" was surrounded with the 
attributes of power. A brilliant diplomatic corps of 
the Allied Powers made people forget that as yet there 
had been no recognition extended to that Government. 
The whole set of former State institutions functioned 
according to the former State Law : legislation, finance, 
trade, justice, administration, — each of these branches 
had its own organ, provided with a numerous person- 
nel of former experienced functionaries and specialists. 
They were even much more numerous than ordinarily, 
even for an "All-Russian" scale, as there were so many 
refugees gathered from everywhere in that small pro- 
vincial town, with no "society" at all, except some local 
tradesmen. There was also a regular army formed 
partly of volunteer, partly of conscripted soldiers, with 
more officers at the rear than there were at the front. 
The army began to win its first victories: on December 
23, 1918, Perm was taken; on March 14, 1919, Ufa was 



ANTI-BOLSHEVIST RUSSIA 157 

taken back from the Bolsheviks. The official and the 
semi-official press was enthusiastic about these military 
successes, and some people began to speak of Moscow. 
The only doubt was whether Moscow should be taken 
from the North, with Archangel's help, or from the 
South, with Denikin's help. There were even some 
moments in September, 1919, when military successes 
in Siberia coincided with similar successes on other 
fronts — in the South, in the West, in the North of 
Russia. The final solution seemed to be approaching. 
Drafts of laws were being prepared in* a number of 
different ministerial boards, "on an All-Russian scale." 
They were being discussed, and revised, and discussed 
again . . . 

What was the reverse, the actual state of things? It 
consisted, in the first place, in the fact that the power 
of the Omsk Government did not go farther than the 
town of Omsk. The large masses, the peasant popula- 
tion remained quite indifferent towards the new power. 
One of the Kolchak Ministers, Mr. Guins, made a trip 
to a village 250 miles from Omsk. "What about the 
Bolsheviks?" he asked a peasant. "Well, what did they 
do to us?" was the answer. "They just came here like 
you, and also came to my house, because it is the pret- 
tiest, and they wore rifles, like you." "Have you heard 
something of Kolchak?" Mr. Guins asked an- old Cos- 
sack. "No, nothing. He is probably an Englishman?" 
the old man asked. The peasants' answers, according 
to a Siberian newspaper inquiry, may be summed up 
by the following statement: "We cannot judge about 
parties. Let come what will, if only we can get more 
land and pay less taxes. Old men and women are 
afraid of the Bolsheviks, but the young ones approve 
of the Bolsheviks because they ended the war." "It is 



158 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

time to finish the war," the peasants repeated at a 
meeting. "It is not good to make war without end." 

But that was just what the new power was doing. 
Its only contact with the population was on the cause 
of war. Conscriptions and requisitions were inevitable. 
The peasants were quite willing to comply, but not 
"without end." They grew especially unwilling when 
they came to know that it was not a "Siberian" but 
an "All-Russian" Government which was forcing them 
to serve and to pay, and that the struggle was going 
on somewhere on the other side of the Urals. An "All- 
Russian" war was more than Siberia could afford. And 
from the very beginning of Kolchak's power military 
coercion was the only means to carry on the war. But 
military coercion definitely deprived* the Government 
of the sympathies of the population, and issued in peas- 
ant uprisings which the military authorities stifled with 
great severity. The population, which did not yet know 
the Bolshevist regime, decided that Bolshevism was 
better. 

Mr. Guins, whom* I have just quoted, repeats for us a 
conversation with Admiral Kolchak which makes es- 
pecially clear that fatal vicious circle. "I am the Com- 
mander-in-Chief," Kolchak said, "and my aim is a 
military one : to break the Red Army. Civil war must 
be pitiless. One of us must shoot the other. That is 
why I think that all your civil legislation is useless. 
However good will be our laws, if we fail, they will 
shoot us." "But just in order not to fail we must 
secure order and good administration," the Minister 
answered. "The people may not be interested in par- 
liaments and republics, but they are interested in the 
personalities in possession of power who are in close 
touch with them. We must cooperate with new men. 



ANTI-BOLSHEVIST RUSSIA 159 

Your chancelleries do not -have any initiative and base 
themselves on old laws, instead of adapting themselves 
to new conditions. Your generals are abolishing the 
local civil authorities and popular self-government. 
We cannot succeed if we do not inspire the people and 
do not build a political point d'appui. Do you not feel 
that the people around us are indifferent to us and look 
at us, your ministers, as something temporary and sec- 
ondary? That is why we have been unable to create 
a support for you in the country, to build a 'peasant' 
defense in the provinces, a 'peasant' parliament in the 
center. Since the overthrow of November 18, 1918, 
the power is centered in the military circles and the 
civil administration has been absorbed 'by you and by 
your generals, who have taken upon themselves too 
much responsibility. Our struggle against the Bol- 
sheviks has become too much impregnated with coun- 
ter-revolution." "You are right," Kolchak answered, 
"the spirit of the country must be aroused, but I do 
not believe in conferences and discussions. I can be- 
lieve in tanks, which I never succeed in getting from 
our dear Allies; I believe in a loan, which might 
straighten our finance; in manufactured goods which 
could cheer up the village. But where can I get them 
from? If I only could improve the sanitary situation 
of the army! ... Do you not know that certain de- 
tachments are just like moving hospitals? No laws 
and no reforms can help if we suffer new defeats. It 
is not laws but men that matter. What can you do 
when you are surrounded with thieves, or cowards, or 
ignorants? We build with bad stuff. Everything is 
rotten. The degree of general pollution simply amazes 
me. And the ministers, well, they live on their paper 
work. It would help us much more if instead of pre- 



160 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

paring drafts of laws they would shoot five or six 
scoundrelly militiamen or a couple of speculators. But 
nobody wants to make use of his power." — "All right, 
let me order that the military censors be made subordi- 
nate to the governors of provinces ?" — "No, by no 
means ; I am Supreme Commander, and I am responsi- 
ble for everything. I cannot change the 'Regulation 
for field administration of the Army' and the respective 
construction of power; the experience and the genius 
of ages is embodied in it." x 

The conflict between the psychology of the "new 
men" and the "genius of ages" was really tragic. The 
rift between the military leaders and officials of the old 
generation on the one side, and the political parties and 
the population on the other, had been steadily increas- 
ing since November 18, 1918. The Social-Revolution- 
aries who were mostly in the majority in the local Zem- 
stvos and Dumas (County Councils and Municipalities, 
reelected under the Revolution on the basis of universal 
suffrage) declared war on the Kolchak Government. 
On the other hand, Kolchak's generals considered as 
revolutionary even such modest consultative assemblies 
as were legally formed to discuss questions of finance, 
economy and the electoral law. The central bloc of 
moderate socialist and liberal groups, which tried to 
give Kolchak the supportiof public opinion, made some 
attempts to compromise, but was never taken in earn- 
est and finally fell to pieces. As long as there was some 
success at the front, compromise with public opinion 
seemed immaterial. When the period of defeats came, 
no compromise was possible any more. 

1 G. K. Gums' book on "Siberia, the Allies and Kolchak" was pub- 
lished in Pekin, 1921, in two volumes in Russian. It contains a great 
deal of first-hand material. 



ANTI-BOLSHEVIST RUSSIA 161 

General Knox explains the military defeat of the 
Kolchak forces by the fact that "things were taken out 
of Kolchak's hands." He wished to proceed slowly and 
"gradually to work up the recruits to the necessary level 
of efficiency." Such was also the view of the organizer 
of the Siberian Army, Grishin-Almazov. But on his 
coming to power Kolchak found that "the Siberian 
Government had already ordered a mobilization of 
80,000 recruits." Grishin-Almazov was dismissed by 
one of the plots arranged by the officers' organization 
as early as September 5, 1918. Under his successor, 
Ivanov-Renov, the old army regime was reestablished, 
and the army had become an independent factor before 
Kolchak appeared. The "dictator," obviously, could 
not dictate to such as put him in power, and, — I quote 
again Gen. Knox' authoritative statement, — the recruits 
"were called up where there was insufficient barrack ac- 
commodation, clothing and trained instructors. They 
were sent to the front half trained. Thus our task 
was half lost before we began." The severities of the 
winter campaign did the rest. The only moments of en- 
thusiasm and success reached at the front were con- 
nected with the activity of the democratic Ural army, 
formed of some tens of thousands of working men from 
the Ishevsk and Votkinsk mining concerns. This was 
also the only army that did not dissolve and pass over 
to the Bolsheviks when the general retreat began in 
October, 1919. 

With the retreat, the attitude of the Allies changed 
at once. It is known that at the end of May, 1919, 
the question of Kolchak's recognition was formally 
raised. It was reduced to the mere promise "to assist 
Admiral Kolchak and his associates with munitions, 
supplies and food, to establish themselves as the Gov- 



162 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

ernment of All-Russia" on certain conditions formu- 
lated by the "Big Four" in their note to Kolchak on 
May 26. Kolchak stood the test, and his answer of 
June 5 was declared by the Allies, on June 12, "to be 
in the main, in accord with the proposal" they made 
to him, "and to contain satisfactory assurances," as to 
his democratic intentions. The recognition was ex- 
pected to come, but there was one more "test" to pass 
through, — a test of arms. If this did not prove satis- 
factory, no more aid was to come from the Allies. "Kol- 
chak is not strong enough for us to support him," was 
now the view of the Allies. All requests for help at this 
critical moment were politely declined. The Czecho- 
slovaks finally declared (November 13, 1919) that they 
could not bear further responsibility for the "burning 
of villages, the killing of peaceful Russian citizens by 
the hundreds, the shooting of representatives of democ- 
racy without trial, on the mere suspicion of political 
unreliability," which had become familiar occurrences 
under the military rule of Kolchak. They wished "im- 
mediately to go home." At the same time, uprisings in 
the villages had become universal, and the Social-Revo- 
lutionary groups had already in October discussed the 
overthrow of the Government. A new political organi- 
zation was formed in Irkutsk, under the name of the 
"Political Center," which united the Central Committee 
of the Social-Revolutionaries, the Social-Democrats 
"Mensheviks," the Zemstvo boards and professional 
unions. The Irkutsk Duma on November 26 made their 
political platform clear by demanding a purely socialist 
government based on the Zemstvos and Dumas and 
on the class organizations of workingmen and peas- 
. ants. 

I cannot describe in detail the tragic agony of the 



ANTI-BOLSHEVIST RUSSIA 163 

Kolchak Government. In fact, it was no more a Gov- 
ernment, as it left Omsk on November 10, 1919. As 
the Czechs took the railroad for themselves, the evacua- 
tion became exceedingly difficult. Kolchak was lost 
in his train, between Omsk and Irkutsk. He was de- 
tached from his Government, which asked him by wire 
first for substantial concessions, then for his resigna- 
tion, until it gradually melted away itself. He was also 
cut off from the remnants of his army, which was 
forced to start on an "icy campaign" of retreat through 
snow and wind, at the side of the railway. We shall 
meet again with these brave Ishevsk and Volkinsk 
workingmen — with such of them as remained alive — 
in the Far East, where their valiant leader, General 
Kappel, tried to conduct them. (See Chapter X.) 

Round Irkutsk the iron ring of rebellion was gradu- 
ally tightening. On December 24, the uprising broke 
out in the city itself. The Czechs were practically or* 
the side of the revolutionaries, and the Allied represent- 
atives only formally neutral. They finally proposed to 
Kolchak's Minister to surrender to the "Political Cen- 
ter," as it had "nothing in common with the Bolshe- 
viks." The negotiations came to nothing, as the "Po- 
litical Center" did not want to guarantee safe passage 
to Kolchak, his functionaries and his retreating army. 
On January 5, 1920, a manifesto of the "Political Cen- 
ter" announced that "the power of the dictator, Kol- 
chak, who carried the war against the people, has been 
overthrown by the will of the insurgent people and 
army." Admiral Kolchak was declared an "enemy of 
the people," and the Czechs, with the silent consent of 
the French General Janin, extradited him to the new 
Irkutsk power. After 17 days of existence that power 
in its turn surrendered to the Soviet of Workmen's, 



164 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

Peasants' and Soldiers' Deputies. On the approach of 
Kappel's army to Irkutsk, on February 7, Admiral 
Kolchak and his last Premier, Victor Pepelayev, were 
shot by the Bolsheviks, after a mock-trial. 

Conditions were much more favorable for the libera- 
tion of Russia from the southern part of it than from 
Siberia. It was much easier for the population to un- 
derstand it as an " All-Russian" task and to become in- 
terested in it. As the burdens of being under the Bol- 
shevist regime were already known from personal ex- 
perience in Russia proper, — and especially in central 
parts of it — the population was much more ready to 
welcome the liberators. Both economic means and 
human material for building and sustaining large armies 
were far more readily obtainable than had been the case 
in Siberia. There was no ground for complaints about 
lack of leading men, which had generally served as an 
excuse for the Siberian failure. All specialties, all 
capacities, all political groups were liberally repre- 
sented among the refugees, and they all were happy 
to serve the cause. Within Russia itself there had also 
remained a plentiful supply of assistants of every 
kind. The elements of statehood were much more 
deeply rooted in the minds and in the habits of the 
population of Southern Russia. The Allied countries 
of Europe were close at hand. The interstate and inter- 
national interest of restored peace and solidarity, moral, 
economic, financial, was much more immediately felt. 
Why was it then that even here, in spite of better 
means and richer resources, the process of liberation 
also failed? 

The reasons were the same as they were in Siberia. 
To begin with the personality of the leader, of course. 
General A. J. Denikin was a stronger and better bal- 



ANTI-BOLSHEVIST RUSSIA 165 

anced man than Kolchak: a "soldier" also, but more 
apt to understand the political aspect of the situation. 
However, he is quite right in his autocharacterization, 
when he says: "To me the Army is almost identical 
with all my life. There are so many recollections, dear 
and never-to-be-forgotten, which are connected with 
it; everything is so tied up and interlaced into one 
thread made of swiftly flown days of sorrow and joy, 
hundreds of dear tombs, buried dreams and unextin- 
guished hopes." * 

At Ekaterinodar and Rostov, the "Commander-in- 
Chief of the Armed Forces of Southern Russia" (this 
was in 1919 a new title for the former "Volunteer 
Army," now formed to a large extent of conscripts) was 
still under the spell of these recollections. He sur- 
rounded himself with his fellow-generals of the Bykhov 
prison and of the "icy campaign," most of whom were 
much more narrow-minded than he, while the friends 
of these friends were connected with the reactionary 
groups of officers. The civil administration was repre- 
sented by the "Special Council" mentioned above: an 
intermediate institution between a Council of Minis- 
ters and a small deliberate assembly. Personally Gen- 
eral Denikin sympathized with the tendencies of its 
liberal wing, represented by some members of the 
"Cadet" Party, and the "Cadets" (Constitutional-Dem- 
ocrats) were sometimes made responsible for his policy. 
But they were only four in the "Special Council" as 
against the twenty-three members of the conservative 
wing. The Council was presided over and controlled 

1 General Denikin's Memoirs ("Sketches of Russia's Troubled 
Times") are being published in Russian in Paris (Pavolozky, pub- 
lisher) . It shows the author as a very talented writer. Thus far two 
parts of the first volume have been published, finishing with the 
imprisonment at Berdichev, after the Kornilov uprising. 



166 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

by a general whose ideas belonged to the past (Gen. 
Abram Dragomirov). With a kind of good-humored 
optimism Gen. Denikin kept in balance the discordant 
elements in his Council, the members of which all rec- 
ognized his moral authority. But the result was that 
the army was left to do what it wished, and there was 
a complete lack of any political program. According to 
Gen. Denikin's ideas this was to be a "transitional" pe- 
riod, during which all substantial questions were to be 
left open, until the "constructive period" set in with 
the liberation of Russia and with the opening of a "Na- 
tional" Assembly (Gen. Denikin tried to avoid using 
the term "Constituent Assembly" which was the Rus- 
sian name for Constitutional Convention). If that 
time should bring with it a struggle between the politi- 
cal parties for constructive issues, Gen. Denikin had 
often declared, he would not take any part in it, but 
after Russia's liberation would play Cincinnatus and 
"plant cabbage." 

However, in the second part of 1919 that kind of 
program proved quite insufficient. The liberated terri- 
tory was speedily expanding. At the end of September 
it represented a large quadrangle limited by Kiev, 
Odessa, Novorossiisk, Stavropol, Tsaritsin, with the tri- 
angle of Kiev, Orel, Tsaritsin on its top. But for a long 
time there was no Minister of Interior among Denikin's 
"councilors." The civilians felt it extremely difficult 
to combine their administration with the matter-of-fact 
predominance of the military rule. The generals were 
glad to be left free for as long a time as possible. The 
result was that the army was demoralized and the pop- 
ulation extremely disaffected. There was at least one 
question the solution of which could not be possibly 
postponed: the agrarian question. Committee after 



ANTI-BOLSHEVIST RUSSIA 167 

committee was appointed by the "Special Council" to 
prepare for its solution. Their work was more than 
once cancelled by Gen. Denikin. And here it appeared 
for the first time just how dangerous was that easy- 
going method of neglecting urgent political demands 
and public opinion. The Commander-in-Chief found 
himself encircled by a group of influential landowners 
and ensnared by their ideology. The progressive mem- 
bers of the Council gave him unsatisfactory advice, and 
all his attempts to break the resistance of the gentry 
resulted in complicated compromises where plain and 
decisive solutions were needed to make the peasants 
confident and willing to help. 

An uncompromising position was taken by Denikin 
himself and by his advisers on the question of the Cos- 
sacks' autonomy. "Russia united and undivided" was 
understood by them in a sense which made "federa- 
tion" appear almost a treacherous idea, while a part 
of the Kuban Cossacks were already preaching com- 
plete independence. Protracted negotiations fostered 
ill feeling, on both sides. The hatred of the Kuban Cos- 
sacks towards Denikin grew especially strong when one 
of the separatist Kuban leaders was murdered by the 
reactionary officers, and another sentenced and hanged 
by one of the generals on the accusation of high trea- 
son. One can imagine how it reflected itself in the 
state of mind of the Cossacks who were fighting at the 
front, far from their native land. 

At the same time, the reactionary officers considered 
Gen, Denikin too much of a "Cadet." His head of 
the Staff, Gen. Romanovsky, was especially hated, be- 
cause he refused to restore to the officers of the old 
army their pre-revolutionary distinctions and to revive 
the old guard organization. They were also indignant 



168 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

because of Denikin's decision to leave the question of 
monarchy open until the Constituent Assembly's de- 
cision. The situation had become particularly strained 
when, after the loss of Kiev and Odessa, new groups 
of politicians and officers came to Ekaterinodar and 
Rostov, who were both monarchist and pro-German. 
The anti-Ally feeling was speedily growing as a result 
of the half-hearted policy of the Allies, and the pro- 
nounced pro-Germanism of the newcomers found the 
ground prepared. The sympathies of the officers soon 
began to turn to a man who while in Kiev had given 
proofs of his monarchist and pro-German tendencies. 
It was General Wrangel, a very gifted military leader, 
whose ties with the army were tightening in the same 
degree as Denikin's reputation was falling down. The 
reactionary officers finally were ready to resort to their 
usual means of plotting and killing. "If I shall be 
killed," Gen. Denikin used to say, "it will be by the 
Right ones (the reactionaries)." 

How did all this affect the process of the liberation 
of Russia? The results of the chaos in the civil ad- 
ministration, the high-handed deeds of the demoralized 
army, the complete neglect of the interests of the liber- 
ated population, the predominant influence of the for- 
mer privileged class of landlords, the elimination of the 
democratic parties influential among the popular 
masses, the growing suspicion on the part of the Cos- 
sacks, — all this proved fatal to the hope of final success. 

The state of mind of the population in the Bolshevist 
part of Russia was more favorable to Denikin's offen- 
sive than ever, and the population was certainly more 
inclined to help the liberators than either the popula- 
tion in Southern Russia or in Siberia, which latter had 
not yet experienced the evils of the Bolshevist regime. 



ANTI-BOLSHEVIST RUSSIA 169 

All the consequences of that regime which are de- 
scribed in Chapter VII began to make themselves felt 
in 1919, and especially in the second part of it, and the 
population had lost patience. The people in the towns 
lacked food, and there was no personal safety. The 
peasants had stopped sowing and selling grain and 
wanted their new acquisitions of land to be legally 
acknowledged. The Red Army did not wish to fight 
and its ranks were being deserted. Finance, industry, 
the food and fuel supply, and the means of transporta- 
tion had reached an unprecedented state of break-down. 
The Soviet powers were making spasmodic efforts to 
wade through the crisis. Requisitions, mobilizations, 
prosecutions by the Che-Ka seemed to have reached 
the limit, and all classes of the population, intellect- 
uals, workingmen, soldiers, peasants had been brought 
to the point of despair. The idea was wide-spread that 
the Bolsheviks would soon be overthrown. 1 

The "White Army" of Gen. Denikin was met with 
enthusiasm. The intellectuals and the cooperative 
workers, who for the most part belonged to moderate 
socialistic parties, discussed the question whether they 
must immediately offer their services to the liberation 
or wait until called upon "as only the propertied classes 
had been appealed to." Red officers were quite pre- 
pared to go over and to join their former comrades of 
the old Russian Army. The soldiers found it useless 
to fight on as "all the country is waiting for the down- 
fall of the Bolsheviks." The peasants met the "White" 
detachments on their knees, and the bells were rung 

1 See a secret report on the state of the Bolshevist part of Russia 
in October, 1919, written by a close observer who worked for two 
years in a provincial professional union and lived for five months 
hidden among the peasants in the zone of military operations. Pub- 
lished in "The New Russia," Vol. I, No. 7, 8 and 9. London, 1920. 



170 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

in their honor in the village belfries. However, all this 
did not last long. 

The "White Army" was no longer what it had been 
at the time of the "icy campaign" of February, 1918. 
Most of the young enthusiasts of the first hour had 
sacrificed their lives in the incessant battles. The new- 
comers who joined the army at the time of its growing 
success were often moved by less idealistic considera- 
tions. They had no scruples against making up for 
their mockingly low salaries by speculating with army 
supplies or even by looting the population. Plunder, 
not only by individuals, but by entire units, became 
almost a profession. Hundreds of railway cars were 
packed with spoils which impeded the regiments in 
their movements and finally caused them to look upon 
retreat as a means for transferring their looted goods 
to the rear. The Cossacks, who formed the majority of 
the army, were especially known for that. Bribery, 
drunken orgies, and every kind of violence became cus- 
tomary, especially in the large cities and among the 
chief commanders. The "White Army" gave no quarter 
to the "Red" officers and very soon it was noticed that 
the "Red" command had become by far more efficient 
than it had been before. The people also changed their 
mind, and several months after the triumphal recep- 
tions no "White" officer could sever himself from his 
detachment, even for a short time, without the risk of 
. being tracked and assassinated by the inhabitants. 

The disaffection towards the officers and soldiers was 
extended to the civil administrators, who followed the 
army. The population often learned, first with aston- 
ishment and then with indignation, the names of those 
officials, who were those known to them from pre- 
revolutionary times as the worst type of local satraps. 



ANTI-BOLSHEVIST RUSSIA 171 

They had only increased now the amount of their 
bribes and had changed the methods of collecting them. 
That was, indeed, a very telling symptom of the restora- 
tion of the old regime. After a short while the popula- 
tion forgot the horrors of Bolshevism and began to say, 
"This is worse than the Bolsheviks." 

But this is not all. Former landowners were also 
coming back with the army. Each one endeavored 
to return to his own former estate, which had been 
taken by the peasants. They were escorted by a spe- 
cial militia called the "State Guard." If the landlord 
was a kindly man he was content with coming to an 
amicable arrangement with the peasants, which the 
latter sometimes quite willingly accepted. Occasion- 
ally, the landlord was intent on revenge for the mis- 
treatment or murder of some members of his family by 
the peasants. His return was then coupled with re- 
lentless reprisals, which naturally were bound to lead 
to further retribution on the part of the peasants. Such 
happenings, of course, were much more apt to impress 
the masses than sophisticated schemes and prospects 
for some future solution of the agrarian question. Un- 
fortunately, the landlord was permitted, according to 
these schemes, to collect one-fifth of the crops from the 
peasants. This was enough for the peasant to come 
to the conclusion that the estates of the nobles would 
be taken from him by the new power. It was a much 
more serious menace than the ineffective scheme of 
"socialization" of the land, according to the communist 
program. 

The disappointment was universal, and a new sort of 
peasant movement appeared: the so-called "Green" 
armies. The "Greens" declared themselves neutral be- 
tween the "Reds" and the "Whites." They were the 



172 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

"Greens" because they wandered about in the green 
forests. The original idea was to stop the civil war by 
armed resistance and to preserve the village from the 
lootings of both the "Reds" and the "Whites." Gradu- 
ally, many of the "Greens" became actual bandits, a 
new scourge for the village. But the peasants still pre- 
ferred them to both the Reds and the Whites. The 
"Green" movement began in the Caucasus, but it soon 
spread to Denikin's rear, in the Ukraine, and one of its 
leaders, the notorious Makhno, for a time threatened 
to raid Rostov. 

The intellectuals, moderate socialists, cooperators, — ■ 
all were mercilessly confounded by the "Whites" with 
the Bolsheviks. Everything which went beyond the 
incomplete spectrum of extremely tame political group- 
ings permitted to exist openly at the seats of the "White 
armies," was considered by the "Whites" to be pro-Bol- 
shevist. The Crimean Government, composed of 
"Cadets," who wished to remain democratic, became 
suspected of extremism. The Zemstvos and the Mu- 
nicipalities were reelected on the basis of a revised elec- 
toral law, and, as the socialist parties in most places 
abstained from electioneering, conservative elements 
took the place of the former radical majority. These 
and similar methods served to alienate the sympathy 
of the popular masses from Denikin's Government. 

All these drawbacks and shortcomings explain why 
Denikin's armies were becoming steadily weaker as they 
were coming nearer to Moscow. There were, of course, 
strategic reasons which partly account for the failure. 
Under the normal conditions of a regular war such a 
speedy advance without reserves and without securing 
the rear would hardly be considered wise. But this 
was a civil war, and in a civil war everything depends 



ANTI-BOLSHEVIST RUSSIA 173 

on the state of mind of the population living under the 
competing systems of government. We have seen how 
favorable that state of mind was for the liberators and 
how much it changed in the process of liberation owing 
to the utterly bad tactics of the "White" armies. The 
point is that the bad tactics was not at all incidental. 
It was so closely connected with the political attitude 
of the liberators and with the social composition of the 
leading elements, that no individual will could bring 
about any substantial change in the situation. Deni- 
kin's failure, as I have said, was not his own. It was 
the crucial test for such remainders of the old Russia as 
had gathered round his banners : people for whom Deni- 
kin himself was almost a revolutionary. For any clear- 
thinking political observer that last experiment defi- 
nitely proved that this method of liberating Russia 
from the Bolsheviks must never again be resorted to. 
It was so self-evident, indeed, that Denikin himself, 
at the last hour, tried to change his tactics completely. 
In about three months (October-December, 1919) all 
the territory between Orel and the Don River was lost. 
On Christmas Novocherkassk was taken by the Bol- 
sheviks ; on the next day, December 26, Rostov shared 
its fate. Out of the 200,000 fighting at the front before 
October, 1 only 10,00 of the Volunteer Army, 40,000 of 
the Don Army and 6,000-7,000 of the Caucasian Army 
(Kubans) remained. Denikin had to go back to 
Ekaterinodar not as a conqueror, but almost as a sup- 
plicant. He agreed to limit his power by creating a 
"South-Russian" Government, and he made every con- 
cession desired by the Kuban Cossack Assembly. It 
was too late and neither side believed the other. The 

1 There were 700,000 "eaters" in the army, but only 200,000 
"fighters" at the front. 



174 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

only result of Denikin's concessions to the Cossacks 
was that the reactionary officers definitely decided to 
hand over the power to Gen. Wrangel. Wrangel's 
scheme was to forsake the Cossacks entirely and to re- 
treat to the Southwest, to the Crimea and to Odessa, 
where he planned to arm German colonists. Denikin 
retreated to the South, to Ekaterinodar and Novoros- 
siisk. He profited by the delay of two months (No- 
vorossiisk was evacuated on March 12-14) in order to 
prepare a new base for the retreating army in the 
Crimea. Neither he nor his new Government had any 
power left. Denikin finally decided to resign. In com- 
pliance with the general desire of the army, he nomi- 
nated Gen. Wrangel his successor and an hour later left 
for London (March 22). 

At the same time with Kolchak's and Denikin's at- 
tempts to liberate Russia a third attempt was liqui- 
dated, that of General Yudenich. Aided by the British 
and, through their mediation, by the Esthonians, Gen- 
eral Yudenich had prepared for a military raid on 
Petrograd, with an army which was one-tenth the size 
of Denikin's army (20,000 "fighters," out of the 70,- 
000 "eaters"). In a few days, however, Yudenich's 
offensive, which was very clumsily executed, was 
checked by Trotsky (October 10-25, 1919). The 
whole episode had no importance in the general 
scheme of the anti-Bolshevist struggle, Yudenich's 
raid could only have succeeded if Denikin had 
come from Orel to Moscow and Kolchak from the 
Urals to the Volga. But, here too, the anti-Bolshe- 
vist military movement revealed the same features, 
which are familiar to us, with the addition of some 
others peculiar to the local surroundings in the Baltic 
region. The contrast between a showy display of lib- 



ANTI-BOLSHEVIST RUSSIA 175 

eralism by the Government and the reactionary dis- 
position of the army was here especially emphasized, 
because the Government, the "North western," had been 
specially created at the British order, while the great 
part of the army had been drilled by the Germans. On 
August 11, 1919, General March had actually ordered 
a group of Russian politicians in Reval to build, in 
forty minutes, a "democratic" Government and to im- 
mediately recognize the independence of Esthonia and 
to summon at once a sort of National Assembly at 
Pskov or at Dorpat-Yuryev. The dependence of Gen- 
eral Yudenich upon that Government was purely fic- 
titious. As soon as he got one million pounds sterling 
from Kolchak he felt free to act as he liked, and he 
decided to formally dissolve his "democratic" Govern- 
ment as soon as he should take Petrograd. Some 
officers connected with the former secret police pre- 
pared a list of people to be murdered in Petrograd, at 
the moment of its occupation. Two Russian detach- 
ments, organized by German reactionary generals, were 
expected to, take part in the operations of the "North- 
western Army": Prince Lieven's division and General 
Bermont-Avalov's corps. Both were controlled by Gen. 
LudendorfTs subordinates, Gen. von der Goltz and Gen. 
Bischoff. At the decisive moment Gen. Bermont's 
corps, instead of helping Yudenich, occupied Riga, the 
seat of the Latvian Government (October 9), which at 
once made the Esthonians change their attitude. It 
also caused the British fleet to change its plan, and, in- 
stead of bombarding Kronstadt, rapidly to steam off 
and to bombard Riga. The lack of decision and of 
unity of command, and the disappointment of the popu- 
lation did the rest. Yudenich fled away, the "North- 
western" Government evaporated, the retreating sol- 



176 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

diers and officers were disarmed by the Esthonians, 
and the remaining funds mysteriously disappeared. 
The enthusiasm with which the Petrograd working- 
men seemed to be inspired in warding off Yudenich's 
attack might have served as a new warning to the peo- 
ple who asserted that the task of liberation was easy 
and that it could be solved by mere military operations 
from outside. It was again the "spirit" of 'the popula- 
tion that decided. 

The natural end of the armed "White" movement 
seemed to come with the downfall of the three centers 
of it in Siberia, Southern Russia and in the North- 
western border States of Finland, Esthonia and Latvia. 
Under dissimilar local surroundings the basic causes of 
failure, as we have seen, were always the same, that is, 
inherent in the movement itself. The chief drawback 
was that it was the formerly privileged groups of the 
population, disinherited by the Revolution, which took 
the lead and were eager to stay at the helm, to the 
exclusion of the rest of the population and of all the 
really democratic political parties. They could steer 
only into the old channel because they knew of no 
other. But, the trend of actual life could not be di- 
verted to that channel of old Russia. 

However, the end had not yet come. The armed 
struggle continued for fully eight months more (March 
22-November 14, 1920), under the leadership of Gen- 
eral Wrangel. On March 20 the British Admiral de 
Robeck had proposed to Denikin that he stop the civil 
war and accept Britain's mediation, under the threat 
that all further aid would be withdrawn. On August 
12 the French Government decided to recognize 
Wrangel's government in the Crimea as the de facto 
government of Southern Russia, "after having taken 



ANTI-BOLSHEVIST RUSSIA 177 

into consideration the military successes and growing 
strength of WrangeFs government as well as his assur- 
ances as to the democratic character of his internal 
politics." Later on in the year, on October 20, when 
the necessity of diverting the Bolshevist army from the 
Polish front to WrangeFs front had passed, the French 
Government became less credulous as to WrangeFs as- 
surances, and the French High Commissioner at Wran- 
geFs headquarters, Count de Martel, warned him about 
the incongruity of his sayings and doings and insisted 
on necessary changes of policy. These three moments 
determine the curve of WrangeFs rise and fall in the 
eyes of the Allied diplomacy. 

Of all the prominent leaders of the "White" armies 
Wrangel was the only one who was ambitious and had 
a personal taste for power. He was also clever enough 
to see the obstacles in the way to power. He had no 
desire to repeat Denikin's mistakes and was quite de- 
cided about taking the right path, without discriminat- 
ing between the political parties or programs. In the 
first place, he knew too well that no success was possible 
as long as the army was demoralized. That was his 
chief point against Denikin and many well-meaning 
people who supported his claim to Denikin's place were 
moved by the consideration that Wrangel was the only 
man who could reestablish discipline in the army. And 
indeed, in a few weeks Wrangel succeeded in raising the 
spirit of the army and in restoring its confidence. How- 
ever, the secret of his success was soon brought out in 
strong relief. It was the spirit of caste with which 
the army was now imbued, and the solidarity of crime 
and lawlessness had taken the place of military disci- 
pline. The prevailing influence rested in a group of 
young officers, to whom everything was permitted. 






178 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

They tolerated only such superiors as shut their eyes 
to their debauched conduct and simply refused to rec- 
ognize such nominations as did not please them. A 
civilian was to them a nonentity. As a matter of fact 
no civil administration existed. The only courts of 
justice that still existed, the military courts, were com- 
pletely disregarded if the culprit belonged to the privi- 
leged caste, and they were forced to sanction hangings v 
and shootings, if the privileged ones condescended to 
put their victims before the tribunals. It was only 
natural that when this army went on an offensive, loot- 
ing and robbing of the population at once became uni- } 
versal. A regiment on the march looked, according to 
a witness, something like a "gypsies' camp." The 
whole detachment consisted of 200 to 300 armed men — 
or 500 to 600 at the utmost. Behind them for long 
miles there followed a train of wagons loaded with fur- 
niture, chickens, porkers and — a great many women. 
The population soon began to ignore the mobiliza- 
tions: certain cantons of the Malitopol district, e.g., 
instead of 1,000 gave six to ten men. Gen. Wrangel 
ordered that property of the relatives of the deserters 
be confiscated, and the "punitive expeditions" were 
thus practically free to loot the whole population. 

Now, there was another idea which had become 
axiomatic: the land was to be left with the peasants, 
in order not to repeat the mistake of Denikin's agrarian 
legislation. Gen Wrangel was ready to .straighten it 
out. But, here again, he was unable to carry out a 
really democratic solution. His idea of democracy,— 
and he was supported in it by the former Tsarist Min- 
ister, Krivoshayin, — was that of old Russia. The peas- 
ants, according to this idea, want the Tsar, the supreme 
"Master-Owner" (the Russian word "Khozyain" im- 



ANTI-BOLSHEVIST RUSSIA 179 

plies both meanings), and do not need the "Cadets" or 
intellectuals. If left alone, face to face with the 
squires, they will easily agree and work hand in glove, 
from their villages and cantons upwards to the Con- 
stituent Assembly. This was again that "betting on 
the grey (the peasant)" which falsified the agrarian 
and the electoral reforms of the time of the Dumas. 
According to Gen. Wrangel, Gen. Denikin's mistake 
had been his reliance on the "Cadet" agrarian pro- 
gram. The "Cadets" and the "National Center"— 
even the tame "Cadets" of Denikin's period — were now 
to be ignored. Krivoshayin's influence was paramount. 

Consequently, the agrarian regulations of May 25, 
1920, were full of loopholes and tricks to restore what- 
ever possible from the landed estates of the gentry. 
The size of plots, the way of remunerating the former 
owners was left to the "Land Councils" in the town- 
ships, and the influence of the squires on the decisions 
of these "Land Councils" can be measured by the great 
size of the estates restored to the former possessors. 
Under the peculiar conditions of land ownership in the 
Crimea, the reform did not provoke open resistance. 
But outside of the Crimea word soon spread that Gen- 
eral Wrangel was an enemy of the peasants, and the 
name "Krivoshayin" was enough to persuade them that 
this was true. The peasants boycotted Wrangel's 
agrarian regulations and waited for some new power 
to come to their rescue. 

A third point whereat Wrangel earnestly wished to 
improve upon Denikin was the question of autonomy 
or federation. The very use of the word "federation" 
had been strictly forbidden under Denikin. It was now 
made use of by Wrangel's advisers. But, again, the 
choice of advisers and executors was dictated by Wran- 



180 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

gel's political connections. To improve the relations 
with the nationalities and with the Cossack territories 
a man was chosen who was as much suspected of favor- 
ing centralism, as Krivoshayin was of landlordism. It 
was Mr. P. B. Struve, the well-known protagonist of 
Russian — and even of "Great-Russian" nationalism. So 
far as the Cossacks were concerned, the result was the 
sham agreement with the "State formations of the Don, 
Kuban, Terek and Astrakhan territories" of August 4, 
1920, which the atamans were ordered to sign in 
twenty- four hours, in order to "demonstrate their union 
with Wrangel before Europe." The document met with 
protests outside the Crimea as it was by far worse 
than Denikin's draft-constitution which had been re- 
jected by the Cossacks. Some amendments were intro- 
duced, but they remained on paper. An agreement 
with the Ukraine was as essential for Wrangel's mili- 
tary schemes as that with the Cossacks. On September 
23 Gen. Wrangel consented to receive a delegation 
from one of the moderate Ukrainian federalist groups 
("the Ukrainian National Committee in Paris"). The 
official statement sent out by Mr. Struve after that in- 
terview was as follows: "Prompted by the desire to 
unite all the anti-Bolshevik forces, Gen. Wrangel is 
ready to support the development of national demo- 
cratic forces on the same lines as proclaimed by the 
agreement with the Cossack regions. Gen. Wrangel 
does not admit the possibility of allying himself with 
any separatist movement." Even for the "federalists" 
such a statement was hardly satisfactory. Mr. Struve's 
idea was to negotiate with the military units fighting 
against the Bolsheviks, and to avoid rapprochement 
with the political organizations that backed them. But 
under the conditions obtaining no such negotiations — 



ANTI-BOLSHEVIST RUSSIA 181 

with Pavlenko, to the exclusion of Petlura, the sepa- 
ratist; or with Balakhovich and Permikin, to the ex- 
clusion of Savinkov, the "vassal" of the Poles — could 
fructify. As a matter of fact, nothing came of the 
negotiations. 

A formula was found by the partisans of Wrangel's 
policy which very well emphasizes its political mean- 
ing. It was the "left (i.e., liberal) policy carried out 
by the right (e.g., conservative) hands." We know of 
examples of a "right" policy carried out successfully 
by the "left" hands; such was, e.g., the policy of Lloyd 
George or Briand. We have also precedents of con- 
servative cabinets carrying out liberal programs in 
earnest, to take the wind from the sails of their politi- 
cal opponents. Gen. Wrangel's policy was unlike 
either. It was a clumsy attempt to cheat the world 
with liberal catchwords for the benefit of a small group 
who were over-confident that they alone knew the real 
Russia, the Russia of illiterate peasants ruled by be- 
nevolent squires, with methods of patriarchal compul- 
sion. 

However, the very basis of Wrangel's power was too 
shaky and uncertain, for this last variation of the 
"White" policy to materialize. A few days before his 
nomination to Denikin's post Gen. Wrangel had told 
his friends that the situation was desperate. He did 
not wish to negotiate with the Bolsheviks, as had been 
proposed by the British, but he at once started on prep- 
arations for the evacuation of the Crimea. That idea 
of an evacuation bound to come, sooner or later, stuck 
at the back of his head, and it explains many things in 
his conduct, as a military leader. His first offensive 
move in the immediate neighborhood of the Crimea 
was explained to the world as caused by the necessity 



182 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

to secure food from a grain producing region. But his 
further schemes of attack were all risky and reckless, 
while the only defensive scheme, — fortifying the 
Crimean Isthmus, which might have made his last 
refuge an impregnable fortress, — was utterly neglected. 
In July and in August Gen. Wrangel tried to start an 
uprising of the Don Cossacks and at the same time to 
take possession of the mouth of the Dnieper. The only 
result was — enormous losses of men and the seizure by 
the Reds of a very important passage across the Dnie- 
per at Kahovka. The second scheme was to transfer 
the military base back to the Caucasus and to prepare 
for it by an uprising in the Kuban Valley. A landing 
took place on August 13 and a serious uprising began 
in the neighboring "stanitsas." But as soon as the 
Cossacks saw the high-handed way in which Wrangel's 
generals were treating them, the movement* fell flat at 
once and the population saved themselves, their cattle, 
their horses, their carriages, their foodstuffs by hiding 
from mobilization and requisition. It was the same 
passive resistance as shown by the population of the 
Taurida Province (the Crimea and neighboring dis- 
tricts) . In a couple of* weeks the operation was liqui- 
dated. The third scheme of attack, which began on 
September 12, was directed straight to the North. The 
moment was favorable, as the Red Army had suffered 
defeats at the hands of the Poles. All the Russian anti- 
Bolshevist armed groups on Polish territory and the 
remainders of the "Northwestern" Russian detachments 
(see above) were ready to recognize Wrangel. He pro- 
posed, in Paris, a scheme for a concerted action with the 
Poles on Kiev. But the Bolsheviks prevented that 
action by proposing peace to Poland, with territorial 
and financial concessions. 



ANTI-BOLSHEVIST RUSSIA 183 

It was in order to turn all the Red forces against 
Wrangel that Mr. Joffe, the Bolshevist plenipotentiary, 
capitulated at Riga and consented to the annexation 
by the Poles of a stretch of Russian territory one hun- 
dred miles wide, to the east of the so-called Curzon 
Line, which later almost coincided with the ethno- 
graphic frontier and had been proposed by the League 
of Nations in July-December, 1919. On the occasion 
of the Riga Treaty, the French diplomacy forsook 
Wrangel, and Mr. Lloyd George in a speech at Lland- 
udno made one of his recurrent declarations that he 
wanted peace with the Bolsheviks as a condition of gen- 
eral peace in Europe. Thenceforth, Gen. Wrangel was 
lost. His desperate attempt to outflank the Bolsheviks 
at Kahovka by acting from the rear, from behind the 
Dnieper (end of October) resulted in a complete rout 
of his troops. A disorderly retreat to the Crimea be- 
gan, and as there were no fortifications on the Isthmus, 
the Red troops immediately penetrated into the Cri- 
mean peninsula. The second week of November 
(8-14) was the last of the Government of South Russia. 
Evacuation was practically the only operation success- 
fully performed by Wrangel, because it was the only 
movement well prepared for in advance. That is also 
why the last stage of defense was so much neglected 
and the last bit of anti-Bolshevist territory so easily 
left behind. 

"We have no other territory, except the Crimea," 
Gen. Wrangel announced openly on November 10, 
1920. "The Government has no means to help the 
evacuated, either on their way or in the future. No 
foreign power has given its consent to receive them. 
Their fate is completely unknown." 

Disregarding that warning, people fled for their 



184 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

lives, panic-stricken. Fully 135,000 went to Constan- 
tinople, without food and drink, in 136 packed ships, 
where they were forced to stay for weeks before they 
were permitted to land. Tens of thousands of others 
who were left in the Crimea were shot by the Bolshe- 
viks. Contagious diseases and utter misery was the 
lot of many who saved themselves. Such as survived 
were morally dead. Dead was the "White" idea, — 
the "White dream," as one of the "dreamers," Mr. 
Shulghin, now called it. But Mr. Shulghin was right 
when he added that it was not in Constantinople that 
the "White dream" was dispelled. It died when the 
lower instincts of looting and enriching oneself at the 
expense of the population, when drunken orgies alter- 
nating with the cruelties of the "White terror" took the 
place of heroism and of the patriotic enthusiasm of the 
first hour. It was then that the "White" idea was 
definitely rejected by the masses and the military men 
became a caste, isolated in their own country and hav- 
ing no choice but to flee and to emigrate. They re- 
mained isolated even among the flood of refugees, and, 
as they still stuck to their privileges in the midst of 
the general suffering, the rank and file refugees were 
heard to say : "Whatever you think of the Bolsheviks, 
you must agree that they have rendered one great 
service to the Russian people: they have thrown out 
of Russia all those dregs, all that rot." 1 

The truth is that the appearance of Gen. Wrangel's 
army abroad (he counted them as 70,000 out 
of 135,000 refugees) finally split the Russian emi- 
grants into two camps. The democratic groups de- 
fended the view that the whole system of struggle 
against the Bolsheviks had to be changed and the 

1 G. Rakovshi, "The End of the Whites" (in Russian) Prague, 1921. 



ANTI-BOLSHEVIST RUSSIA 185 

"White movement" definitely discontinued. They 
held that the last traces of WrangeFs power had to be 
abolished, his army demobilized and turned into regu- 
lar refugees who would be free to earn their living. 
There was a strong movement within WrangeFs army 
itself to break free from the fetters of WrangeFs disci- 
pline and to go. But it met with the deliberate resolve 
on the part of WrangeFs generals to keep the men to- 
gether by methods of violence. The White terror of 
a Kutepov or of a Turkul was now applied to the 
camps at Gallipoli, Lemnos, etc., where the disarmed 
officers and soldiers were kept like prisoners. The idea 
was that the "living force" must be preserved up to the 
moment when it would be needed for some new armed 
struggle against the Reds. Gen. Wrangel had decided 
to preserve his power until that time, and he even 
formed (April 5, 1921) a kind of government, the "Rus- 
sian Council." In vain did France inform him as early 
as November 30, 1920, that she considered his gov- 
ernment as non-existent and that his army, according 
to international law, must be disarmed and disbanded. 
Gen. Wrangel still clung to the phantom and stubbornly 
continued his game, appealing to Russian patriotism 
and treating as traitors every one who did not agree 
with him. France repeatedly warned him that some 
day the feeding of the emigres must be discontinued. 
From January, 1921, the French Government had to 
prolong the rationing of WrangeFs camps to February, 
from February to April, from April to May. They 
even tried to enforce the return of WrangeFs Cossacks 
to Soviet Russia. (Some 11,000 actually returned.) 
Finally it was decided to transfer the remainder of the 
troops, with other refugees, to Serbia and Bulgaria. In 
the autumn, 1921, that process was consummated and 



186 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

Wrangel with his generals had to leave Constanti- 
nople. 

Unfortunately, even this may not yet be the end of 
Gen. Wrangel's game. We have seen how, gradually, 
a selection of the most reactionary elements took place, 
and these elements have remained faithful to Wrangel. 
This was a natural starting point for a systematic and 
well-organized political propaganda, in order to make 
of the rest of Wrangel's forces a ready weapon for a 
monarchist restoration in Russia. In Bulgaria, and 
especially in Serbia, the work of sustaining the refugees 
is kept well in the hands of Wrangel's commanders and 
other reactionary agents, who make use of their power 
for enlisting the refugees in monarchist and reactionary 
organizations. Their political activity is supported by 
reactionary centers in Budapest, Munich and Berlin. 
The branches of the monarchist organizations are 
widely spread in Europe (Paris, Prague) and 
even in this^country. 1 The former "Germanophilism" 
of Wrangel and of the Russian reactionary elements 
seems to have helped them in binding connections with 
the German monarchists. I have already mentioned 
that since 1918 attempts were made by German mili- 
tarist groups to organize monarchist armies in Russia, 
and we noted the activities of some of these armies on 
the Northwestern frontiers. Since Yudenich's defeat 



1 On my landing in New York, in October, 1921, I was kindly- 
favored with a leaflet entitled: "Miliukoff — the Traitor. His Po- 
litical Record" New York City, October, 1921, signed by the "Rus- 
sian National Society," "Association Unity of Russia," "Union of 
Russian Peasants in America and Canada," "Union of Russian Mon- 
archists in America" and "Russian Brotherhood in Galicia." I was 
told that there are few members in these "Unions" and always the 
same. The leadership seems to belong to Mr. Brasol. Archbishop 
Platon addressed a monarchist petition to President Harding but 
did not seem to receive a satisfactory reply. 



ANTI-BOLSHEVIST RUSSIA 187 

certain elements of these armed detachments are still 
in existence and are controlled from Berlin. 

However, if that were all there is to anti-Bolshevist 
Russia, the Bolsheviks might feel on sure gound. The 
more the anti-Bolshevist movement was becoming re- 
actionary and monarchist, the more it had to rely on 
foreign help and intervention, and, as a consequence, 
the more it helped the Bolsheviks. A feeling of patriot- 
ism evolved within Russia and especially in the ranks 
of the Red army, which was used adroitly by the Bol- 
shevist power to rest their authority on a moral basis. 
If the reactionary emigrants were to take the place of 
the reactionary "White" armies, the ties would be en- 
tirely broken between emigration and Russia. 

Fortunately, this is not the case. In the measure as 
reaction was unmasking itself, the liberal elements 
among the emigrants had to take sides. A nucleus of 
democratic groups was formed as early as January, 
1921, at a conference of the Members of the All-Rus- 
sian Constituent Assembly, which met at Paris. Ele- 
ments of former political parties are regrouping them- 
selves around that nucleus. Their political faith is: 
Democracy and a federated Republic in a Russia that 
has grown politically conscious through the process of 
its revolution. It is this program, not that of reac- 
tion and monarchist restoration, which is hailed by the 
anti-Bolshevist elements in Russia itself. The issue 
which is now being fought out is not between Bol- 
shevism and reaction. It is between Bolshevism and 
democracy. To keep that issue clear is the task of 
Russian liberalism abroad. 



CHAPTER VII. 

THE DECLINE OF BOLSHEVISM. 

We have seen the origin of Bolshevism and we now 
know its aims, both in internal and in external policy. 
We know that in their internal policy the Bolsheviks 
never intended to introduce real communism in Russia 
and were satisfied with "State Capitalism/' for which 
they are even ready to substitute "State Control," if 
only they can get a new lease of life at the price of 
this concession. We also know that their chief interest 
has been centered in their foreign policy, as their only 
aim has always been to bring about a world revolution. 

What is the result of the long experiment which has 
lasted for four full years? The Utopian dreams have 
gradually receded to the background, while realistic 
tactics has been becoming an aim for and in itself. The 
achievement of the World Revolution has had to be 
postponed. Now the Bolsheviks are reaching the point 
when — in one way or another — they will be forced 
formally to repudiate their experiment in "incomplete" 
communism. The "dictatorship of the proletariat" 
will be the last thing they will concede, and this is 
practically the only thing they really achieved — if you 
pass over "the proletariat" part of it and explain the 
"dictatorship" as a survival of old autocratic methods, 
in their crudest medieval form, of a rule by direct vio- 
lence. 

188 



THE DECLINE OF BOLSHEVISM 189 

Of course, the Bolsheviks themselves explain their 
utter failure by that unforeseen circumstance that the 
world proletariat was too slow to follow their example. 
No communist State, they argue, can exist in the midst 
of the capitalist States. With the same reason some 
sectarians finally admitted that no "sons of God" can 
carry on their paradisic existence among the "sons of 
evil." The argument is poor because it begs the ques- 
tion, whether sons of God can exist at all in this world 
of sin. 

The real explanation of the Bolshevist failure is, of 
course, much simpler than that. No human society 
that consumes without producing can exist. Bol- 
shevism has only succeeded in building a huge machine 
of bureaucracy and warfare while at the same time it 
has destroyed all incentive for industry and trade and 
has had to live on the natural produce of an equally 
ruined agriculture. History knows one single instance 
of a similar experiment. It was the late Roman Em- 
pire where "the number of such as spend finally be- 
came larger than the number of such as produce" and 
which could only continue its frail existence on the ob- 
ligatory work of a conquered people. This has now 
become the fate of the "Republic of workmen and 
peasants." Of course, the result was bound to be the 
same: a gradual decay of highly developed forms of 
State and a return to the medieval or even to the tribal 
stage of life. Of course, there is another side to this 
process : that of a new growth, and we shall come back 
to it. But so far as the Bolshevist experiment is con- 
cerned, we now must analyze its process of degenera- 
tion and disintegration, in order to understand what 
must be its natural end. 

The first sign of decay is reflected in Russian de- 



190 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

mography. The Russian nation belongs to that group 
of younger nations whose birth rate has not yet under- 
gone the checking influence of urban civilization. Rus- 
sia headed the world's list in births and, unfortunately, 
also in the mortality of her children. In the fifteen 
years from the census of 1897 to 1912 Russia's popula- 
tion increased by 42.8 millions, i.e., at the rate of 2.8 
millions a year. The following figures will show how 
that state of things was changed first by the war and 
then by the Bolshevist rule: 

(Per 1000) 1900-1909 1917 1919 

Births 46.1 39.4 13.0 

Deaths 29.4 25.4 74.9 



+ 16.7 + 14.0 — 61.9 

That is, instead of an increase of 1,7=1.4 per cent, of 
the population, we have the distressing fact of an an- 
nual decrease of 6 per cent. 

A Russian economist, Mr. S. Maslov, who has just 
escaped from Soviet Russia, gives the following figures 
showing the movement of the population in the twelve 
provinces of the old Russian center, which has espe- 
cially suffered from Bolshevism. 

Urban Rural 

Population Population Total 

1916 6,779,482 18,416,496 25,195,978 

1920 3,851,487 18,375,031 22,226,518 



— 2,927,995 — 41,465 — 2,969,460 
(43.2 per cent.) (0.2 per cent.) 

It is also interesting to note the change in the com- 
position of the population by sexes, unfavorable to the 



THE DECLINE OF BOLSHEVISM 191 

towns and favorable to -the villages (in the same twelve 
provinces) : 

Urban Population Rural Population 
(Male) (Female) (Male) (Female) 

1897 134.5 100 

1916 73.6 100 

1920 83.5 100 77.0 100 

The disintegration began from the head, the indus- 
trial population of the towns. The city population was 
in general comparatively small in Russia, but its num- 
ber was increasing: from 4 millions in 1897 to 6.8 mil- 
lions in 1916 in the 12 provinces mentioned (in all 
Russia the proportion of the city population increased 
for the same period from 12.9 per cent, to 17.5 per 
cent.). Now, in 1920 the figure fell to 3.8 millions, 
i.e., less than it was in 1897. The facts of gradual de- 
terioration and final destruction of buildings in the 
towns, of decay of municipal enterprises, such as water- 
works, sewerages, lighting systems, tramways, etc., are 
too well-known to be dwelt upon. Let us turn to the 
state of industry in Bolshevist Russia. 

Fuel can be called the key-production which deter- 
mines the state of industry. In Russia the "starvation 
minimum" for fuel, absolutely necessary to keep up 
production and life in the country, is considered to be 
10 to '11 million cubic "sagens" (1 cu. sagen=343 cubic 
feet). Here are the figures showing the total amount 
of fuel in the country. 

1916 1917 1918 1919 
Millions cu. "sagens" 17. 13. 0.9 0.7 

After 1918 Soviet Russia was cut off from its coal 
and petroleum supply by the civil war, and it was only 



192 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

in the Spring, 1920, that it entered into possession of 
the respective territories. It was thus left without its 
starvation minimum. Population, industry, transpor- 
tation suffered greatly from the lack of fuel, as can be 
seen from the following figures showing fuel used in 
millions of cu. "sagens" : 

1916 1917 1918 1919 
Population (heating, water, 

light) 2.8 3. 2.9 1.5 

Industry 5.2 4. 3.2 2.1 

Transportation 9. 6. 3. 3.3 

In 1920, after the defeat of Gen. Denikin, the amount 
of fuel was expected to rise to 13.3 million cubic "sa- 
gens." Coal, oil, timber was again under the control 
of Moscow. But, owing to general conditions, the out- 
put had decreased too much in the meantime to satisfy 
even the "starvation minimum." It was a little better 
in 1921, as one can see by the output of coal for six 
months of 1921 as compared with the same period of 
1920 (thousands of poods) : 

January June 

1920 1921 

Donetz Basin 116 157 

Moscow Basin 16 22 

Urals 28 34 

Siberia 27 37 

Turkestan — 3 

187 253 

But it is still very far from normal production (Don- 
etz in 1913—753). 
The production of iron has fared no better. The 



THE DECLINE OF BOLSHEVISM 193 

total amount of metal required by industry for 1919 
was 113 million poods. But only 37 millions could be 
provided, i.e., about 30 per cent. The actual amount 
of iron used, however, was only one-half of it, 15 per 
cent. The reason was — the diminution of productivity, 
which was no more than 10 or even 5 per cent, in the 
best factories. The chief work of the metallurgic trust 
"Gomza" which unified in the hands of the State 614 
nationalized concerns (out of the whole number of 
1191), was the construction of locomotives and of roll- 
ing stock. Only one-fifth or one-seventh of the pro- 
gram of construction was accomplished. If com- 
pared with 1914, the productivity of the Maltsev fac- 
tory, one of the best, was decreasing at the following 
rate: 

1914 1915 1916 1917 1918 1919 
100. 56.5 44.7 35.2 12. 7. 

Attempts were made in 1920 to stop -the fall in the 
productivity of labor, but in 1921 it again resumed its 
downward course. In the Auerbach Mine in the Urals, 
e.g., the average output of ore per workman was (in 
poods) : 

Dec. 1920 Jan. 1921 Feb. 1921 Mar. 1921 
234 162 186 132 

The production of pig-iron fell in the interval from 
1913-1920 from 257,398 thousand poods to 6,133 thou- 
sand poods, i.e., to 2.4 per cent. 

Let us take another important trust of the State: the 
sugar trust. The decline in production is here charac- 
terized by the following figures: 



194 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

1914 1915 1916 1917 1918 1919 1920 
Area sown with sug. 

beet (thous. dessi- 

atines) 697 682 613 539 411 387 180 

Output of sugar 

(million poods) . . 105 91 73 56 20 5 6 

The production of flax was one of the most impor- 
tant features of Russia's foreign trade. One-third of 
the output was exported. But the peasants stopped 
sowing flax, in the first place, because they had to sell 
it at fixed prices, which were too low, and in the second 
place, because they needed grain and preferred to sow 
cereals. If compared with 1913 the area under flax 
was especially reduced. If we take the figure for 1913 
(iy 2 million dessiatines) as 100, the following figures 
will be: 

1913 1916 1919 1920 
100 85 35 19 

As a result, instead of the 35-40 millions of poods of 
the pre-war crops of flax, there were 13-10 millions 
reaped after the war, while in 1919 and 1920 the crops 
were 5 and 2 millions. That ancient branch of Rus- 
sia's production and industry is thus entirely ruined. 

It has been no better with the other branch of the 
textile industry, which was particularly important in 
Russia's industrial history and formed the backbone 
of the Russian rich "bourgeoisie," — the cotton industry. 
Just before the war we succeeded in growing our own 
cotton in Transcaucasia and Central Asia, and home- 
grown cotton was gradually substituted for the Ameri- 
can, Egyptian, East Indian and Persian. The Russian 
cotton industry occupied the fourth place in the world 
production (after Great Britain, the United States and 



THE DECLINE OF BOLSHEVISM 195 

Germany) . It was all destroyed under the Bolsheviks. 
The area under cotton in Turkestan speedily decreased 
as a result of the disorganization of transport, decline 
of industry, high prices of grain and low prices of cot- 
ton. The figures are as follows (taking for 100 the fig- 
ure for 1916, 553,761 dessiatines) : 



1916 


1917 


1918 


1919 


1920 


100 


66 


14 


15 


19 



The slight improvement in the cotton crop acreage 
was not reflected in improvement of the industry 
owing to the very inefficient system of purchase and 
distribution of raw cotton by the "Glavnotextil." The 
nationalized concerns represented (in 1919) a total of 
6.9 million spindles and 162 thousand weaving looms. 
Their yearly requirements in raw materials amounted 
to 18 million poods of cotton and to 14 million poods 
of yarn. What did they obtain from the Central 
Board? About 4.7 per cent, of their requirements. 
The Centrotextil set 1,320 thousand spindles (i.e., 19 
per cent.) and 53 thousand weaving looms (32 per 
cent.) to work. But after 8 months 300 thousand 
spindles (4 per cent.) and 18 thousand weaving looms 
were actually working (11 per cent.). 93 concerns 
were closed during 1918-1919, and the remaining ones 
worked only a part of the week. In 1920 the factories 
received about 14 per cent, of their requirements (2 
million poods of 16 million), but proved unable to cope 
even with this quantity. The output fell to about 4.3 
per cent, of that of pre-revolutionary times. The 
program "maximum" for 1921 (198 concerns with 5 
million spindles and 120 thousand weaving looms) ne- 
cessitated a consumption of 11.5 million poods of cot- 



196 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

ton, while no more than 6.5 million were to be found 
in Turkestan. Under the conditions of general decay 
it was hardly possible to achieve even the program 
"minimum" (103 concerns, 2 million spindles, 48.5 
thousand looms, with an output of 4 million poods of 
yarn and 646 million arshins of cotton goods). 
y Under such conditions of decaying industry what 
could be the position of the working class, the "pro- 
letarians"? We know that their initial role of masters 
of the situation was gradually changed. Few of the 
rank and file succeeded in passing from the "Factory 
Committees of Workmen" to the newly built "Cen- 
tral" and "Principal" boards (see Chap. III). They 
were there in the minority: in 1918 in 12 "central" 
trusts there were 162 workingmen to the 231 commis- 
sars, former owners and managers, specialists and en- 
gineers to whom the real direction was now intrusted. 
The administration of separate concerns was also given 
over to responsible directors, who were subordinated 
to the central boards, while the workmen's committees 
were abolished. 

For a time it seemed as if the workingmen were 
being remunerated by an extremely speedy increase 
of their wages. But very soon great disappointment 
ensued. The adjustment of wages could not keep pace 
with the increase in the market prices of foodstuffs and 
commodities. Wages were doubled before the end of 
1917, but market prices went up sevenfold. Up to 
the end of 1918 wages were increased from 12 to 20 
times, compared with November, 1917. But during 
the same period the price of bread increased 19 times, 
the price of manufactured goods 20 to 22 times, soap 
and shoes 25 times, etc. In the middle of 1918 an in- 
quiry was made in Moscow into the budgets of 2,173 



THE DECLINE OF BOLSHEVISM 197 

workingmen occupied in 238 factories. The result 
was to show that more than a half (56 per cent.) re- 
ceived less than 500 rubles a month, while the other 
44 per cent, received from 500 to 1,000 rubles. Neither 
group could live on the wages alone : they had to cover 
about one-third of their budget (34.5 per cent.) by 
spending their savings (17.8 per cent.), getting loans 
(9.3), selling objects of their property (2.2), etc. They 
had to economize on all items of their budget (dwell- 
ing-places, clothes, drugs, cultural needs, etc.) in order 
to buy food. That item which before the war made up 
from one-third to one-half of the workmen's budget 
(34 to 45 per cent.), had now increased to three-fourths 
of the whole (72-75 per cent.). It follows that the 
wages was now barely sufficient to cover the expenses 
for food. But as a matter of fact it was not sufficient 
even for that. The same inquiry made it clear that 
the workingmen could buy only 11.5 per cent, of their 
supply of food (8.1 of the whole budget) for prices fixed 
by the Government (by the ration cards). The re- 
maining 88.5 per cent. (62.8 of the whole budget) had 
to be bought in the free market, for speedily growing 
prices. What could they get there? The Petrograd 
statisticians evaluated the minimum nutriment to be 
3,580 calories a day. That figure was reduced to 1,850 
calories in the autumn of 1919. Now, in 1918 the work- 
ing men received only 6.8 per cent, of that "famine ra- 
tion" (245 calories) for fixed prices, and had to spend, 
according to the market prices, about 1,200 rubles for 
the remaining 93.2 per cent, or — if they could not — be 
undernourished. In 1919 an inquiry covering 44 con- 
cerns with 73,000 workmen in Moscow showed that 
more than a half of them received from 10 to 20 per 
cent, of the diminished minimum of calories (i.e., 185 to 



198 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

370), while the largest quantity distributed did not sur- 
pass 28 per cent. (518). It was a little better in the 
grain producing regions: 790 calories was distributed by 
card rations in the Volga basin, 853 in the Urals and 
1,557 in Western Siberia. 

The workingmen had to supply the rest, as I have 
said, from the free market. But was there a free mar- 
ket in "communist" Russia? Of course, it did not 
exist on paper. But, as an inevitable correction of the 
paper legislation, it continued to exist in life. Every- 
thing was sold and bought in the free market, but as 
the dealers had to run the risk of official raids and 
requisition, and as they also had to adjust their prices 
to the speedily falling value of a depreciated currency, 
the prices grew enormously. Before the War (1914) 
a daily food ration, evaluated at 2,700 calories (which 
is midway between the two "starvation rations" men- 
tioned above) cost in Moscow fourteen copecks. Its 
price in January, 1920, was 798 rubles, 50 copecks, 
i.e., 5,703 times as much (in Siberia it was 95 rubles, 
70 copecks, i.e., 683 times as much : these are the two 
limits between which prices fluctuated in the different 
provinces of Russia) . How could a workingman afford 
to cover that increasing difference between what he 
received and what he had to have for his minimum 
expenses? * He went to the free market, but he could 
not go there with empty hands, and his salary as well 

lr The last data about the situation are given in a report of the 
Medical Director of the American Relief Administration, dated 
November, 1921. It shows that the situation is changing from bad 
to worse. 

"Prices, especially of food, are rising apace and the ruble de- 
creasing in value; the exchange rate was 68,000 for $1.00 on our ar- 
rival in September, and is now over 200,000; and unofficially as much 
as 300,000 per dollar is being paid. Considering that 600,000 rubles 
is an average salary, even in Moscow, and that flour costs 16,000 



THE DECLINE OF BOLSHEVISM 199 

as his savings were far from sufficient. He had to help 
himself. He did it, in the full measure of the political 
influence which he still possessed as the "hero of the 
revolution." 

In order to produce official evidence of how he did 
it, let me quote from a statement based on the investi- 
gation conducted by the Bolshevist Interdepartmental 
Commission. "We assert," the official Red organ, The 
Economic Life, says, "that the abundance of goods of 
all kinds which exists now on the 'speculation' market 
has for its source only the warehouses of Soviet Russia, 
from which these goods are supplied there in a crim- 
inal fashion. It is we, ourselves, who feed 'Sukhar- 
evka' (a market place in Moscow which became the 
chief center of free trading) with the goods it sells 
and render useless our struggle against the village ex- 
ploiters who supply foodstuffs to the Sukharevka in 
exchange for our own cloth, metal goods, etc." 

Stealing and selling of "nationalized" goods stolen 
from the Government on the free market has become 
quite a custom in Russia. Nobody thinks it dishonest. 
Workingmen occupied in concerns which produce 
goods for sale, employees at the Soviet warehouses and 
stores of supplies, and the lower class of the Soviet 
bourgeoisie steal in order to save themselves from 
starvation. The latter are an exceedingly numerous 
clan, as every one who does not produce is obliged to 

rubles per pound, meat 18,000 rubles per pound, sugar 50,000 rubles 
per pound, butter 50,000 to 60,000 rubles per pound and milk 10,000 
rubles per pint, it is quite obvious that food shortage and misery- 
extends beyond the actual starvation zones. Persons in cities and 
towns increase their resources by selling in the market, or privately, 
anything saleable which they may have in their homes; in fact 
streets about the markets are crowded with persons offering for sale 
their household effects; ornaments, bonnets, toys, jewelry, overcoats, 
carpets, furs and what not, limited to the provinces." 



200 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

fill up the ranks of the Bolshevist bureaucracy. Be- 
fore the Bolshevist usurpation (1917) employees and 
clerks formed from 10 to 20 per cent, of the number of 
workingmen in the Moscow region. At a later date, 
under the regime of nationalization, the Bolshevist 
economic journal counted 2,000,000 employees to the 
3,135,000 workingmen, i.e., 63 per cent. 

However, bringing the manufactured goods from the 
stores to the free market is only one-half of the task. 
The other is — to bring to the same market foodstuffs 
from the village. The workingmen undertook also 
that other part of the task. A special profession of 
middleman between the town and the village was 
founded: the so-called "bagmen" or "sack-bearers." 
They carried flour and vegetables from the village, to 
sell or for their own use. The profession was not with- 
out danger as the workmen had to leave their factories, 
which they did mostly on the pretext of illness, while 
the peasants had to sell their produce in a clandestine 
way as they were forbidden to sell anything before pay- 
ing the assessed amount of foodstuffs. To block the 
free exchange between the village and town special 
"stop detachments" were formed, which intercepted 
the peasants and the "bagmen" at the railway stations 
and in their vicinity. But the men of the "stop de- 
tachments" were themselves no better and they often 
acted as an organization for helping, not checking, the 
speculators." "For a bribe in money, alcohol or sub- 
stitute liquor," the Petrograd Pravda says (Dec, 
1919), "they not only permit the 'speculators' to bring 
in their products but even help them. At railroad sta- 
tions one can often see these 'guardians of the law' 
carrying a bag with flour or other food products on their 



THE DECLINE OF BOLSHEVISM 201 

shoulders, pushing the passengers aside, and followed 
by the 'speculators' in whose pay they are and whose 
contraband they carry." 

Thus, there was much more behind that barter of 
foodstuffs for manufactured goods than the mere wish 
of a customer to sell and to buy. A substitute for a 
free trade apparatus appeared in the persons of 
small tradesmen, peddlers or other men of energy 
and initiative. Two types «of real "speculators" 
appeared which soon became the nouveaux riches 
of the communist society. One type was that 
of a market dealer in goods who knew where to 
find the buyer and the seller, who was himself buying 
private ownings from the helpless "bourgeoisie" for 
ridiculous prices, who received commissions and soon 
turned into a millionaire. He would then transform his 
money into more solid property, gold, jewelry, foreign 
currency. Sometimes such a "speculator" became the 
victim of the agents of the "Che-Ka," who extorted 
from him his "unearned increment." But they were 
too many, thousands and tens of thousands, to be thor- 
oughly wiped out. The second type was that of a 
"speculator" of a higher rank. He would receive orders 
from the Government and travel, with regular permits 
granted by the Soviet institutions, in a separate car. 
He would buy some 20 poods of a merchandise for the 
Government, and 200 for himself and store them in 
his privileged car. He would buy saccharin in Moscow 
for 50,000 a kilo and would sell it at Tomsk for 1,500,- 
000 ; or he would buy dried fruits and rice in Tashkent 
fifty-six times cheaper than he would sell these staples 
in Samara; he would buy wheat flour in Tashkent for 
40,000 a pood and sell it in Samara for 200,000; he 



202 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

would buy butter in Omsk for 6,000 a pound and sell in 
Tomsk for 12,000.! These privileged speculators be- 
long to the higher Soviet bourgeoisie, the so-called 
"Sov-boors" who now rent nationalized concerns and 
take contracts from the Government. They are re- 
cruited from engineers, lawyers, former high officials, 
the middle or even upper bourgeoisie. Of course, they 
must know how to bribe influential Soviet officials and 
commissars. Some of the latter have regular shares in 
the organized speculative business. The socialist prin- 
ciple (see Chap. Ill) "he who does not work, neither 
shall he eat" has become transformed in Russia into a 
more popular saying: "He who does not speculate, 
does not eat." Speculation indeed is universal, and 
people help each other to evade detection by the au- 
thorities. This is the substitute for free economic 
initiative. Naturam expellas jurca, tamen usque 
recurret. 

The new Soviet bourgeoisie — the only social layer, 
which enjoys life in Russia — were, of course, mostly 
left unmolested. But a series of restrictive measures 
were taken against the workingmen. As a result of 
small wages and shortage of food, they were leaving 
their factories in numbers. Some of them became "bag- 
men," some entered the ranks of the Red bureaucracy 
or served in the Red Army. Such as had preserved 
some connection with the villages settled in the coun- 
try. Instead of the 9,200,000 "proletarians," num- 
bered in that social group in 1897, only 4,775,000 re- 
mained, according to the official statistics for 1921. In 
January, 1918, the official number of men in the nine- 
teen principal industries represented at the All-Rus- 

1 These facts are given in a personal letter by a Russian who has 
just escaped from Siberia. 



THE DECLINE OF BOLSHEVISM 203 

sian Congress of Professional Unions was 2,532,000. 
But two years later Trotsky stated that in all the im- 
portant branches of industry there were not much over 
one million on the list. The number of actual workers 
was only about 800,000. At the same time the Com- 
mittee on Universal Compulsory Labor estimated the 
labor shortage as 230,000 of skilled and over 2,000,000 
of unskilled labor. From September, 1919, to February, 
1920, thirty-eight factories and foundries working for 
"national defense" asked for 39,145 skilled working- 
men. But only 27 per cent, of the number required 
(10,158) could be supplied. In March and April, 1920, 
the absences in railway workshops and factories were 
more than 80 per cent. All these were the so-called 
"shock-industries," particularly important for the Bol- 
shevist Government. 

This could not be tolerated. Commissary Lomov in 
June, 1919, declared that as things stood, "proletarian 
principles must be put aside and the services of private 
capitalistic apparatus made use of." As early as March, 
1919, this was also the advice of Mr. Krassin. The Bol- 
sheviks followed it so successfully that not only the 
"communistic" principles were thrown overboard, but 
even such acquisitions as had been won by labor in its 
struggle against capital under the autocracy, and which 
formed the substance of the former Factory Laws, were 
entirely lost under the "dictatorship of the proletariat." 

They began by reintroducing the system of piece- 
work wages, which had been abolished by the Pro- 
visional Government. They added to it the system 
of premiums for increased productivity. Of course, 
that "capitalistic" device had its usual consequence. 
In March, 1919, Mr. Rykov, the President of the Su- 
preme Council of National Economy, declared that in 



204 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

certain concerns the productivity had increased by 30 
per cent. In 1919 the surplus wages paid under the 
piece-work system as compared with daily salaries was 
estimated for 12 concerns in Petrograd as 68.3 per 
cent. 

Other "capitalistic" methods were also revived. It 
was permitted to arrange for overtime work according 
to "internal regulations" of the factories, without the 
sanction of the Unions. Then a supplementary hour's 
work was introduced as a "voluntary" contribution of 
the workingmen. It was also on the "voluntary" 
basis that the workmen were supposed to agree to a 
full day's work on Saturday. Finally, the Bolshevist 
power proceeded to legislate, and it introduced by de- 
crees the ten, eleven and even twelve hour day in rail- 
way work-shops and in concerns working for the Red 
Army. Thus, gradually they paved the way for a sys- 
tem of compulsion of labor. The system of premiums 
for increased productivity was supplemented by the 
system of penalties for idleness and absence from work. 
These are the very words of the Decree of May 10, 
1920: 

(a) For the first day of absence during a month 15 per 
cent, of the monthly premium is deducted, for the second 
day 25 per cent., for the third day 60 per cent. 

(b) Besides this, the work left incomplete during the 
absences must be made up for after the working hours and 
during holidays. In this case the workman may be put to 
any kind of work irrespective of his specialty and will be 
paid according to the normal scale without premiums or ad- 
ditions established for overtime work. 

(c) In cases of absence for more than three days in a 
month the guilty will be charged with the crime of "sabot- 
age" and prosecuted by disciplinary tribunals. 



THE DECLINE OF BOLSHEVISM 205 

The pre-revolutionary Factory Laws did not permit 
the fining of workingmen more than three rubles or 
six days' wages for bad work or for absence, on the con- 
dition that the whole sum should not be more than a 
third of his earnings at the moment when the fine is 
imposed. 

But the climax was reached when the Bolsheviks de- 
cided to militarize labor. The idea was suggested by 
three circumstances. In the first place, compulsory 
labor service had existed from the very beginning of the 
communist regime. But it was chiefly applied to the 
"bourgeoisie" and the intellectuals with the obvious 
aim to "break the will" and to degrade the former 
"parasitic" class. The "bourgeois" were forced to re- 
move human refuse, to pave and clean the streets, to 
unload the coal, to drain the marshes, etc. Now the 
same principle was to be extended from the "unproduc- 
tive" or "privileged" groups to the whole population 
on the ground of State necessity. The second circum- 
stance which suggested the militarization of labor was 
the necessity of demobilizing the Red Army after the 
defeat of the "White" armies. The original idea of Mr. 
Trotsky was to make use of the demobilized army for 
the purpose of introducing a unified system of econ- 
omy "in every branch of the economic life of the coun- 
try, agriculture, industry, transportation." "The 
masses," he explained to the Ninth Congress of the 
Russian Communist Party, "should be in a position to 
be moved about, sent and ordered from place to place 
in exactly the same way as soldiers. . . . Without this 
we cannot speak seriously of any organization of in- 
dustry on a new basis in the present day conditions of 
disorganization and starvation." 



/ 



206 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

However, soon Mr. Trotsky changed his mind as to 
a continued existence of the Red Army. The "first 
Labor Army/' transformed from the Third Red Army 
in January, 1920, instead of being demobilized, was 
only temporarily given such work as wood-cutting and 
gathering, loading, etc. The -result was ridiculous. 
Only one- tenth of the army of 150,000 was actually at 
work, and the productivity of their unskilled labor was 
thirty times less than the standard of 1916. Trotsky 
went on ordering new conscriptions and increasing his 
army on the pretext of new dangers menacing the Re- 
public of workingmen from the "rapacious imperial- 
ists" all over the world. 

There remained the third reason for militarizing 
labor — "desertion of work" which was increasing from 
the beginning of 1920 at a menacing rate. The "strug- 
gle with labor desertion" was formally sanctioned by 
the Ninth Congress in April, 1920. Methods of "mili- 
tarization" were to be preserved in that struggle. As 
Trotsky stated, it was more than an analogy (with the 
army discipline). "No other social organization has 
ever considered itself justified in subordinating the will 
of the citizens to such an extent as the army." It was 
no more the "political will of the intelligentsia" that 
was now to be "broken" (Trotsky's utterings in Janu- 
ary, 1919) but the will of the "backward element" of 
the proletarian masses. 

Accordingly, a decree was published in the spring, 
1920, which incorporated the whole population into 
special labor armies. A "General Committee" ("Glav- 
komtrude") is at the head of the new centralized or- 
ganization and local committees in the provinces 
("Komtrude") are affiliated with it. The "Glavkom- 
trude" began by evaluating the whole number of labor 



THE DECLINE OF BOLSHEVISM 207 

requirements for 1920 at 131,895 skilled and 1,809,037 
unskilled workingmen. (See above.) It had then to 
proceed to mobilization, and extremely severe measures 
of punishment were announced at the end of May for 
evasion of labor conscription. Even persons "guilty of 
aiding or giving refuge to labor deserters" were to be 
punished by "fines or by partial or complete confisca- 
tion of their property," by imprisonment or even by 
trial before the Revolutionary Tribunal. The special 
"Revolutionary Council of Labor" ("Revsovtrude") 
was empowered to send the enlisted workingmen to 
wherever it desired, without discrimination of training, 
in the order of their registration. 

During 1920 the process of mobilization was pursued, 
rather fitfully and with very poor results, all over Rus- 
sia. The new organization seems to have met with 
passive resistance on the part of the proletariat. A very 
small part of the scheme for "distribution of labor" in 
1920 was accomplished. For the first trimester of 
1920 only 11,359 workingmen were distributed in 25 
provinces for railroad service. The seven largest metal- 
lurgical foundries, working for railroad repair which is 
badly needed for the transport, asked the new organi- 
zation during the second half of 1920 for 14,571 men. 
13,383 were ordered to go, but 8,442 of them simply 
disappeared, and they only got 4,941. In Petrograd 
itself, at the end of 1920, 27,629 were ordered to report 
for wood-cutting. Only 2,967, i.e., less than 11 per 
cent, actually reported. The amount of work expected 
from them was 321,530 cubic sagens of wood and 1,147,- 
970 logs. The work actually accomplished was 77,298 
cubic sagens of wood and 57,020 logs, i.e., 24 per cent, 
and 7 per cent. 

This was the best answer to Trotsky's assertion that 



208 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

"the statement that free labor — namely freely em- 
ployed labor — produces more than labor under compul- 
sion is correct only when applied to feudalist and bour- 
geois." The working class now practically felt much 
worse that under the "bourgeois order." The resolu- 
tion of Petrograd workers of September 5, 1920, reads: 
"We feel as if we were hard labor convicts where every- 
thing but our feeding has been made subject to iron 
rules. We have become lost as human beings, and have 
been turned into slaves." 

As a result of that state of mind, a wave of strikes 
passed over Soviet Russia in 1920. Strikes have been 
called in 77 per cent, of the large and middle-sized 
works. In nationalized undertakings strikes were con- 
tinuous and 90 per cent, of them were called in just 
such factories. This is the statement of the Bolshe- 
vist board of statistics of the Commissariat of Labor. 
1 If such was the policy of the Bolsheviks toward a 
class which they claimed to represent, one may imagine 
what it was concerning that other class to which the 
great majority (85 per cent.) of the population be- 
longed, — the class of farmers which was classified as 
"petty bourgeoisie" and, accordingly, a potential enemy. 

Under normal conditions of economic life the free 
play of exchange served as a basis for regular inter- 
course between the town and village. This normal rela- 
tion was now greatly disrupted, since the State had 
taken up the task of organizing the whole system of 
production, distribution and consumption. Neither 
the task of providing the town with foodstuffs nor the 
task of providing the village with manufactured goods 
could be even approximately solved by the Bolshevist 
Government. The result of that wholly ineffective 
mediation was bound to be disastrous both for the 



THE DECLINE OF BOLSHEVISM 209 

town and the village. Far from being able to cope with 
the complicated functions of a "State Capitalism," 
the Bolshevist State proved unable to perform the 
more elementary functions of the formerly existing 
State for which it had substituted itself. We have 
seen how it destroyed industry, and we shall see how 
agriculture was destroyed. But before we come to it 
we must dwell somewhat upon the havoc it played with 
its own finances. It is especially in that branch that 
the resources of a modern State were completely de- 
stroyed by the new possessors of the State power and, 
as a result, the whole structure has crumbled down 
to the bottom. 

The Bolsheviks came to power with the most san- 
guine and naive hopes as to the use to be made of the 
financial reserves stored by the "greedy" bourgeoisie, 
especially after their war-time "predatory profits." 
Their first financial scheme was thus to take from the 
"bourgeoisie" as much money as they could get out 
under the menace of terror. By a decree of October 30, 
1918, they ordered "an extraordinary revolutionary tax 
to be collected only once." They expected to get from 
the "bourgeoisie" the sum of 10 billion rubles: a part 
of the "enormous gains won by unrestrained war specu- 
lation." Unfortunately for the Soviets, these 10 bil- 
lions could never be paid. 

The sum total of the yearly national income in pre- 
war Russia was estimated to amount to 15 billions. 
Less than one-fifth of that sum, i.e., 2.6 billions, could 
be collected as income tax, under ordinary conditions. 
There were in Russia only 30,000 taxpayers who were 
in possession of a yearly income above 10,000 rubles. 
They had to pay 60 per cent, of the sum assessed. As 
may be seen from these figures, Russia was very poor 



210 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

as compared with the other "bourgeois" nations. More- 
over, just these 30,000 well-to-do people — or as many 
of them as had remained within Bolshevist Russia — 
had already suffered from every kind of confiscations 
and requisitions. It was thus natural that by the mid- 
dle of 1919 only iy 2 billion was actually paid. The 
Bolsheviks were finally forced to recognize that their 
great confiscation tax had utterly failed. 

Another attempt to grab the "bourgeois capital" 
was made by laying hands on their open accounts in 
the banks. This idea was as naive as the former one. 
Two billions of the "capitalist" money had been found 
in the banks on December 15, 1917. On May 1, 1918, 
this money had been confiscated, with the exception 
of 33 millions. 

The third device was to put into the budget for 1919 
the revenue of all the nationalized industry, commerce, 
ways of communications, former State monopolies, 
which amounted to about 13.5 billions. This was a 
great item: full two-thirds of the evaluated income. 
But they forgot that the State had taken upon itself 
the ungrateful task of running all these concerns. Just 
how unprofitable it was can be shown by the follow- 
ing figures. The "Ce.ntrotextil" (see above) advanced 
for the second part of 1918, on account of products 
to be received, 1,348,716,000 rubles. The value of 
goods received to secure this advance was up to Janu- 
ary 1, 1919, only 143,716,000 rubles, i.e., about 10 
per cent, of its advance. They expected to receive for 
goods issued for consumption during the first half of 
1919 — 1,503 millions. The sum actually received was 
55 millions, i.e., 3.5 per cent. The railways, which in 
1916 gave a net profit of 140 million rubles, after their 
nationalization worked at a loss of 8 billions in 1918. 



THE DECLINE OF BOLSHEVISM 211 

The estimated expense for running railroads, national- 
ized concerns and supplying the workers amounted for 
1919 to 24.1 billions, i.e., the expected income of 13.5 
billions turned into the big deficit of 10.6 billions. The 
reality was much worse than the estimates: the final 
deficit was 33.9 billions, and in 1920 it amounted to 
315.6 billions. 

What was to be done? Indirect taxation was gen- 
erally objected to by socialists. But the Bolsheviks 
not only preserved all the former indirect taxes, they 
extended indirect taxation to all possible articles of con- 
sumption, and they thus were able to add to the former 
income of a quarter of a billion eight times as much: 
2% billions in all. Compared with their enormous ex- 
penses it was still a trifle. 

The only source left was to print paper money. It 
was rather queer for the people who had repeatedly 
promised to abolish money altogether. But they had 
to do it. That was the only way to cover their colossal 
deficits which were growing in geometrical progression. 
Of course, "paper money in its turn increased the nomi- 
nal figures of expenditures. The balance of revenue 
and disbursements was as follows: 1 

1918 1919 1920 

Revenue (in billions) 15.6 49. 159. 

Expenditures (in billions) 46.9 215.4 1,215.2 

(Expenditures in gold value) 0.89 0.76 0.68 

Deficit 31.3 166.4 1,056.2 

(Deficit in per cent, of expenditures) 66.6 77.3 86.9 

We see that two-thirds of the budget for 1918, more 
than three-fourths for 1919 and almost nine-tenths 

*I take these figures from M. Maslov's remarkable articles in the 
Paris Posledniya Novosti (The Last News) — a Russian daily paper. 



212 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

for 1920 were to be covered with paper money. Infla- 
tion of currency had already become conspicuous dur- 
ing the war time. Before the Revolution of 1917, 272 
million rubles had been printed monthly. The Provi- 
sional Government increased that figure to almost four 
times: up to one billion. The Bolshevist Government 
in 1918-1919 printed six times as much as the Pro- 
visional Government — six billions monthly. In 1920 
the monthly emission of paper money rose to thirty- 
eight times (38% billions). 

The quantity of paper money in circulation increased 
accordingly. 



War time (1914-16) 


- about 10 billions 


March Revolution (1917) - 


» 19 » 


The Bolshevist Revolution: 




1918 and 1919 


" 175 " 


End of 1920 


" 1000 " 



We know that the consequence was an exorbitant and 
rapid rise of prices in speedily increasing proportion. 
No adjustments of wages or salaries, however frequent, 
could keep pace with the fall of the paper currency. At 
the beginning the Government tried to standardize 
prices. But it had proved difficult even under the 
Provisional Governments of 1917. In August, 1917, 
fixed prices for grain were to be increased in order to 
impel the peasants to deliver their grain. Under the 
Bolsheviks fixed prices were preserved, but as early 
as January, 1918, fixed prices for grain lost at least 
half their value when compared with prices quoted 
for other articles of prime necessity. 

Henceforth the peasant preferred to sell in the free 
market, for actual, not for fixed prices. But it meant 
selling to private purchasers, not to the Government. 



THE DECLINE OF BOLSHEVISM 213 

At the beginning paper money was willingly received, 
and soon the peasants became millionaires. They 
could no more count their rubles. They kept them 
in bundles, weighed them and it became customary to 
say: "We have so many pounds or poods of rubles." 
But then they saw that their paper wealth was rapidly 
depreciating. They changed their minds and asked 
for manufactured goods. There were some stores of 
these preserved from former years, but they were soon 
distributed. The farmers could have no more iron, 
cloth, shoes, matches, etc. They had to be satisfied 
with what the burgesses were bringing them from the 
town: furniture, rugs, gramophones, pianos, etc. They 
hoarded all that, but finally they had enough of it, 
and at the same time the "bourgeoisie" had little left 
to sell. 

Of course, the Bolsheviks did not care about the 
"bourgeoisie." But the Red Army and the Red bu- 
reaucracy had to be fed and paid in kind. In some 
way or other the Bolshevist Government had to provide 
for that. Otherwise the very basis of its existence 
would be shattered. 

The Bolshevist Government had inherited from the 
Provisional Government the grain monopoly, which 
had been introduced in April, 1917, in order to secure 
supplies for the Army. The Bolsheviks preserved it 
as it fitted perfectly into their scheme of nationalizing 
the whole system of the national economy. This was 
just "State Capitalism." But there was that question 
of fixed prices for which the peasant was unwilling to 
sell. For instance, in the fertile province of Kursk in 
1918 there was grain enough to be sold at a price of 
$17.00 or $19.50 the pood (36 lbs.). But the peasants 
refused to deal at the fixed price of $8.75, i.e., at half 



214 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

the price. As a result, food was sold to the "bagmen" 
or to the Cooperatives, but not to the Government. 
The number of carloads of grain actually sent off from 
the provinces to the central Government was decreas- 
ing at a speedy rate. Here are some figures to illus- 
trate the situation : 

Carloads Carloads actu- Per cent, of 

Provinces Ordered ally sent off orders executed 

Voronezh 1,000 2 0.2 

Viatka 1,300 14 1.07 

Kazan 400 2 0.5 

Kursk 500 7 1.4 

Orel 300 8 2.67 

Tambov 675 98 14.51 

The whole quantity of food supplies (flour, rye, 
wheat, barley, oats and peas) arriving in Petrograd in 
1917 and 1918 varied as follows (in tons) : 

January-March April-June July-September 

1917 24,626 24,165 20,438 

1918 12,001 5,388 2,241 

The situation was becoming so menacing that the 
Bolshevist power decided to resort, here too, to meth- 
ods of compulsion. They were twofold. Free trade, 
through "bagmen," was to be precluded. Grain was to 
be registered in the villages and delivered to the Gov- 
ernment. 

The former measure had been taken as early as Feb- 
ruary 19, 1918, in the shape of a "compulsory regula- 
tion" introducing "stop detachments" at each large rail- 
way station, to confiscate provisions carried by the 
passengers. The practice of these "stop detachments" 
was confined to looting, and the requisitioned goods — 



THE DECLINE OF BOLSHEVISM 215 

of every kind — were mostly distributed among them- 
selves. But to a certain extent the "bagmen's" trade in 
its primitive form was actually reduced and it took the 
professionally organized form of which we have already 
spoken. (See above.) The prohibition only increased 
"speculation" and the further growth of prices. 

The latter measure was taken by a Decree of May 
14, 1918. 1 The Decree was a fierce attack upon "the 
village bourgeoisie/' which "remains stubbornly deaf 
and indifferent to the wailings of starving workmen 
and peasant poverty, and does not bring the grain to 
the collecting points," while selling it^"at home at 
fabulous prices to grain speculators." [The Bolsheviks 
decided that "the answer to the violence of grain-owners 
towards the starving poor must be violence towards the 
bourgeois^lP"Npt a pood should remain in the hands 
of those holding the grain, except the quantity needed 
for sowing the fields and provisioning the families until 
the new harvest." The amount to be retained was 
exceedingly low: 432 lbs. of flour and 648 lbs. of po- 
tatoes. The Russian peasants under normal conditions 
need almost double that quantity, as bread and potatoes 
form practically their sole sustenance. In order to 
"compel each grain-owner to declare the surplus," the 
workingmen and the poor peasants were invited "to 
unite at once for a merciless struggle against the grain- 
hoarders," and the powers of the People's Food Com- 
missioner were extended so as to override all local food 
bodies and to use armed forces in cases of resistance. 

The Government thus entered the stage of class war 
between the town and the village. A "crusade" against 

1 The full text of this symptomatic decree is published in Mr. John 
Spargo's book : "The Greatest Failure in All History," Harper, 1920, 
New York and London. 



216 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

the village bourgeoisie was formally declared by a de- 
cision of the All-Russian Executive Committee. The 
Soviets of Moscow and Petrograd were ordered in June 
"to mobilize 10,000 workers, to arm them and to equip 
them for a campaign for the conquest of wheat from 
the rapacious and the monopolists." 

The "rapacious," the "tight-fisted" village dealers and 
"profiteers" as a matter of fact were the great majority 
in the Russian village. The Bolshevist emissaries met 
with the most decided and stubborn resistance. When 
they appeared in the village they were often beaten 
half-dead, hunted like wild animals, killed and torn 
to pieces by the infuriated crowd. That is why the 
order was to "equip for a campaign" full detachments 
of workingmen. Such detachments were really formed. 
In June, 1918, the "Food Army" consisted of about 
3,000 bayonets. In December it had grown to 36,500 
men. But the Bolsheviks themselves in their report 
on the work of that Food Army had to avow that "in 
the course of its work (i.e., during four months) it 
has lost 7,309 men killed, wounded, etc.," — i.e., one- 
fifth of its number. 

The more important point for the Bolsheviks was 
that, although the amount of grain collected increased 
a little owing to the activity of these requisitioning 
detachments, they had to be fed on it first, and the 
amount of supplies that reached the cities continued 
to decrease. In fact it was never as low as just at 
that time (see above figures for July-September, 1918 
for Petrograd). If the civil war was to bear any real 
fruit, it obviously had to be transferred to the village 
itself, and not be brought to it from the outside. And 
so it was decided. The "poor peasants" had to join the 
workingmen. 



THE DECLINE OF BOLSHEVISM 217 

On June 11, 1918, a decree was issued establishing the 
"Pauper Committees" (or "the Committees of the 
Poor") in every village. Only such as were supporting 
the Bolshevist authority were elected to the commit- 
tees, and mostly they were the worst elements in the 
community: the least thrifty, sometimes criminals. 
Outsiders, as "chance visitors," were permitted to be 
elected together with the "local residents." The "Pau- 
per Committees" were given great power, and one can 
easily imagine how much lawlessness and mutual ha- 
tred was introduced into the Russian village by this 
new form of the rule by the "conscious minority." It 
can also be easily understood why it was just the Pauper 
Committees which made the farmers closely acquainted 
with the methods of the Bolshevist compulsion and 
provoked a series of uprisings. The "paupers" were, 
of course, the first to suffer from these uprisings. But 
then, detachments of Red soldiers, chiefly aliens, were 
sent to punish the rebels, and the uprisings were regu- 
larly stifled. However, one result of this new form of 
civil war appeared as early as the autumn of 1918. The 
peasants reduced the area of their autumn sowing. 
"Why should we sow?" they are reported to have said. 
"If one is permitted to take away grain from others, 
without doing any work, — well, we had better remain 
without grain, and be classed as poor." 

The Decree of May 14, 1918, started with the sup- 
position that "in the producing provinces of Russia 
there were large reserves of grain of the harvests of 
1918 and 1917 not yet even threshed." The Decree 
of October 30, 1918, still tried to persuade the "paupers" 
that the well-to-do peasants had "surpluses" of grain, 
because the land was not yet partitioned in equal lots 
and they possessed better and larger lots than the 



218 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

others. The reason is not good, as the well-to-do peas- 
ants who formed the great majority just possessed the 
average lots. But the fact of there being reserves of 
grain in 1918 is probable. It is also true that the at- 
tempts of the Government to lay its hand on these 
reserves failed utterly. Lenin himself avowed that no 
more than 28 million poods in the first half of 1918 
and 67 million poods in the second half could be col- 
lected by the Governmental agencies as a result of the 
Bolshevist food policy. The Bolsheviks had to recog- 
nize their mistakes and change their methods. 

A new term now appeared in the official decrees of 
1919: "the mid41e^rJeasarltry. ,, Both Lenin and Trot- 
sky in their letters puBTished in February, 1919, agreed 
that there was a "third group" in the village, between 
the "tight-fists" and the "paupers," "with its one wing 
adjoining the proletariat, with its other merging with 
the bourgeoisie." Lenin wished to believe that they 
"were not the enemies of the Soviet Government," while 
Trotsky desired to persuade them that the Soviet Gov- 
ernment "does not compel and never intends to compel 
the middle peasantry to change to the communistic 
forms of land tilling." 

Obviously, the peasant uprisings of the autumn of 
1918, had duly impressed the Bolshevist leaders. In 
the same autumn an official order was published which 
tried to conciliate the "middle peasantry." It was 
recognized that "in many cases the interests of the 
middle peasantry were violated." As the "village pau- 
pers" were considered by the population to be "an in- 
strument of repression against the rest of the rural 
population," it was explained that, on the contrary, 
the pauper committees were "revolutionary organs of 
the whole of the peasantry against the former land- 



THE DECLINE OF BOLSHEVISM 219 

owners, the rich 'tight-fists/ the merchants and the 
priests." This classification, of course, was also far 
from being definite. Lenin, in his speech at the Con- 
gress of the Communist Party, in April, 1919, went 
further. He said: "Even with respect to the rich 
peasant we do not speak with the same determination 
as with regard to the bourgeoisie. We do not say: 
absolute expropriation of the rich peasantry. We say : 
the suppression of the resistance of the peasantry. . . . 
This is not complete expropriation !" At the same time 
Lenin counseled his comrades to moderation. "We 
cannot expect the middle peasant to come over to our 
side immediately.' ' "We have learned how to over- 
throw the bourgeoisie and suppress it. . . . We have 
not yet learned how to regulate our relations with the 
millions of the middle peasants and how to win their 
confidence. . . . We must live in peace with the mid- 
dle peasantry. The middle peasantry in a communistic 
society will be on our side only if we lighten and im- 
prove its economic conditions. . . . First help him, and 
then you will secure his confidence." 

Accordingly, new tactics were resorted to in the 
villages. Lenin's idea was to try the Cooperative ap- 
paratus now, and it was so decided by the Congress. 
By a Decree of August 8, 1918, the consumers' Cooper- 
atives (about 20,000 organizations uniting about 7,000,- 
000 consumers) had been made use of as semi-official 
organizations for the compulsory purchase of grain 
from the peasants. The peasants had to bring their 
grain to collecting-centers and receive payment for 
it partly in money and partly in credit orders on Co- 
operative stores in the vicinity. In March, 1919, an- 
other decree was issued which permitted "free sales 
of products, including foodstuffs." As a symbol of the 



220 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

union between the peasantry and the proletarians, Ka- 
lenin, a peasant-Bolshevik, was elected President of the 
Central Executive Committee, and in his address 
(April, 1919) he preached a conscientious collection 
of the tax in kind and depicted idyllic scenes of free 
exchange of articles of agriculture and of home con- 
sumption for farm and household utensils at local fairs. 

The results, however, did not justify these expecta- 
tions. By September, 1919, only 38.1 per cent, of the 
assessed quantity of bread and fodder grain had been 
collected (about 100 million poods) ; by January, 1921, 
the figure was a little over 200 million poods. The 
Government needed twice that much. 

The official organ Izvestia (November 3, 1919), ex- 
plained the lack of success by "the class war which 
has become permanent and continuous," as well as 
by the diffidence of the peasants. They are not yet 
"sufficiently farsighted to be quite convinced of the 
stability of the Soviet Power and of the inevitability of 
socialism," and for this reason or some other they "con- 
sider Soviet money of no value, not being able to buy 
anything with it." The paper does not mention the 
fact — officially stated in another Red periodical — that 
the area under cultivation had already diminished for 
that year (1919) by 13,500,000 acres in 28 provinces: 
a further result of the slackening of incentives for 
keeping up production on the level attained under 
better conditions. 

"The peasants conceal their bread": such was the 
official explanation of the failure to receive the neces- 
sary food for the Red Army and the Red officials in 
1919. The practical conclusion was that the whole 
flirtation with the "middle peasantry" was useless and 
unnecessarily sentimental. The "selfish" policy of the 



THE DECLINE OF BOLSHEVISM 221 

farmers was thus exposed and censured by Mr. Os- 
sinsky, the Soviet economist. "In order to escape 
requisitions, the middle peasants in many localities 
plant grass and other crops unfit for human consump- 
tion, instead of food grains. They make every effort 
to reduce the area under cultivation, sowing only what 
they require for themselves. . . . They sell whatever 
horses they have in the autumn, attempting in that 
way to evade labor duty, and then dispose of whatever 
fodder they have to "speculators." 

Arguments like these convinced the Food Depart- 
ment that force must be applied to compel the peas- 
ants to mind their interests. At the same time the 
government decided to increase their claims from the 
peasants. The program for 1920 was again about 400 
millions. Unusually severe measures were to be ap- 
plied to carry it out. (See Chap. VIII.) As a matter 
of fact, more than the assessed amounts was requisi- 
tioned from certain localities and, in general, the local 
authorities did not concern themselves with the figures 
designated: They were helped by the fact that in 1920 
new territories, especially rich in grain, were added to 
Bolshevist Russia, such as Southern Russia (the 
Ukraine), the Caucasus, Siberia. Food stores were as 
yet unexhausted in these regions, and this helped the 
Bolsheviks through the year 1920. But this was their 
last resource. In 1920 and 1921 they exhausted Siberia 
in the same way as they had exhausted the original 
territory of Bolshevist Russia in 1918 and 1919. It 
was the same Pauper Committees in the villages, the 
same civil war and continuous uprisings, the same sys- 
tem of repression and extermination of the more active 
and intellectual element, and, as a result, increased 
assessment of grain tax and enforced requisitioning of 



222 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

stores. The objections of local specialists against the 
immeasurably high assessments were explained as "sa- 
botage" and counter-revolution. In many regions of 
Siberia there was not enough grain left even for seeds, 
and in 1921 the planted area was no more than 50 
per cent, of that in 1920. The well-to-do peasants pre- 
ferred to hide their grain rather than sow it; they pre- 
ferred to slaughter their live stock for meat, to consume 
their milk, butter, eggs, than to give all these to the 
Bolsheviks. Here, as elsewhere, the Bolshevist food 
policy "took out the soul from agricultural labor, de- 
prived the peasant of any stimulus to work, any desire 
for improvement and increased effort." I have sum- 
marized here a very detailed description in a per- 
sonal letter, and my informant adds: "What a 
relief it might have been for starving Russia — 
these two million dessiatines left without seeds in the 
Altaisk, Tomsk and Semipalatinsk regions, where crops 
were satisfactory in 1921. The Volga basin would not 
have been converted into a real dead wilderness and 
peasants would not have died as early as August, if 
the Soviet power had not pumped out absolutely all 
the stores left in a region which already in 1920 had 
suffered from great shortage of food." (See Chap. 
VIII.) 

I especially emphasize the fact of exhaustion of 
stores in old and in newly acquired territories because 
it partly explains the exceptionally good success of Mr. 
Ossinsky's large program of food requisitioning in 1920. 
The theoretical estimate, based on the yearly home 
consumption of 664 lbs. per head of the population, was 
that only 108 million poods of crops would remain free, 
to be requisitioned by the State. But as a matter of fact 
the Commissariat of Food Supply succeeded in collect- 



THE DECLINE OF BOLSHEVISM 223 

ing 350 millions by assessment. Moreover, it was esti- 
mated that about 240 million poods were obtained by 
the "bagmen." Where could the 482 millions 
(350 + 240—108) lacking be found? Mr. J. Larin, 
the leading Bolshevist economist, answered in Mr. 
Ossinsky's spirit: "It is clear that the peasants have 
succeeded in cheating our statisticians to the amount 
of 482 million poods or to about one-quarter of the 
total amount which the population has declared to the 
local statistical organizations as the total yield of the 
crops (1,687 million poods, exclusive of 513 million 
poods of seeds)," and he confidently raised by 25 per 
cent, the program for 1921. To which Mr. Larin's com- 
munist opponent, Mr. Popov, who is the head of the 
Central Statistical Department, very reasonably ob- 
jected, that it remained to be proved whether the mys- 
terious 482 millions really were taken from the avail- 
able surpluses. "Was it that the Commissariat of Food 
really took surpluses, or did it take grain according to 
the assessment, the assessment for 1920 being fixed 
without any regard to surpluses or to deficits? This 
being so, all the conclusions arrived at by comrade 
Larin fall to the ground." 

We quote this learned dispute between the two 
economists of Bolshevist Russia in order to show how 
superficial and irresponsible were the minds by which 
Russia was doomed to pass through the famine of 1921. 
There can be no doubt that the 350 millions requisi- 
tioned by the agents of the Food Department were 
taken from the reserve stocks, which were now utterly 
exhausted, and that the real yearly consumption for 
1921 fell far below that tolerably good figure of 644 lbs. 
per head. 

The gruesome fact of starving Russia, which we shall 



224 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

describe in the next chapter, is a convincing answer to 
Messrs. Ossinsky and Larin's indictment of the peas- 
ants' concealment. The Bolsheviks foresaw the dry- 
season and were unable to close their eyes to the dis- 
aster. They were frightened — not so much for Russia 
as for their further existence. Mr. Lenin, at a new 
congress of his party, on March 15, 1921, came out 
with a new program of concessions. 

"The situation is now this," he said. "Either we 
must satisfy the middle peasants economically and con- 
sent to a freedom of commodity exchange, or it will be 
impossible to maintain the power of the proletariat in 
Russia, in view of the slowing down of the interna- 
tional revolution." "We know that only an under- 
standing with the peasantry can save the social revolu- 
tion, until the revolution is ready to break out in other 
countries." 

There followed some elementary avowals. Mr. Lenin 
now dared openly to recognize that "the small peasant 
has aims that are not the same as those of the worker." 
"In Russia the industrial workers are in the minority 
and the small farmers overwhelmingly in the majority." 
"The transformation of the entire psychology of the 
petty peasants is a labor that will require generations." 
In the meantime "it is impossible to deceive a class of 
the population and it is dangerous to go on deceiving 
one's self. It is time to admit frankly that the peasants 
manifestly refuse to accept proletarian dictatorship 
any longer. . . . We must grant freer economic rela- 
tions between the workers and peasants. As a matter 
of fact, we have hitherto acted in a too military manner. 
... If some communists thought the organization of 
a socialistic state was possible in three years, they were 
dreamers. Freedom of economic relations means free 



THE DECLINE OF BOLSHEVISM 225 

trade, and free trade signifies a return to capitalism. 
Those who believe that in this Russia of peasants so- 
cialism can be reached, simply believe in Utopia." 

Far-reaching conclusions could have been drawn 
from these new admissions. But such conclusions 
would have implied the possibility of resigning or re- 
nouncing the whole experiment. Far from this being 
the case, Mr. Lenin's concessions to reality and to "capi- 
talism" did not go beyond what he planned for 1919 
when the danger of destruction of the agricultural basis 
of the national economy first became universally self- 
evident. Lenin's proposals accepted by the March 
Congress were: 

1. To replace the levy as a means of supplying the State 
with foodstuffs, raw materials and fodder by taxation in 
kind. 

2. The amount of the tax to be estimated so as to cover 
the minimum requirements of the army, the town workers 
and the agricultural workers, but at the same time to be less 
than the quantity assessed in accordance with the State levy. 

3. The surplus supplies, in excess of the tax, to be freely 
exchanged for manufactured goods, either at the local mar- 
ket place or through the cooperative societies. 

However, there were reasons enough for the peasant 
to remain suspicious. The independence of the cooper- 
ative societies was at that very time finally abolished 
by the Decree of March 20, 1921. v They were incor- 
porated into the State organism and hierarchically 
subordinated to the central institutions. Liberty of 
initiative and enterprise on the part of the population 
was thus definitely destroyed/ Manufactured goods, of 
course, were not to be had by paper order. Lenin ex- 
pected "to obtain a certain part of the goods from 
abroad" and thus to strengthen the power of the State 



226 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

and "to keep power more firmly in the hands of the 
proletariat." But it took time to restore trade rela- 
tions with foreign capitalists. Again, one could not 
see how the change in form of assessment could bring 
about with it the diminution of the amount of tax, 
if the requirements of the Red Army and the bureau- 
cracy were to be met. Poor crops did not permit the 
Bolsheviks to diminish their "minimum" demands. 
The "minimum" was estimated at its former figure of 
400 million poods, namely: 

For the army, the workingmen and rural 

population (Bolshevist bureaucracy) 200-250 millions 

For the urban population, at the mini- 
mum ration of 400 lbs. per head 160 millions 

* The tax in kind was to give 240 millions, and the rest 
was to be obtained by exchange of goods. But they 
themselves admitted that in 1921 the tax in kind could 
hardly give more than 180 millions and they expected 
to get the other part also "from import." They also 
could not conceal from themselves that the help to 
the starving population would amount to 60 millions 
at least, even at half -minimum rations. All these ele- 
ments of uncertainty left the whole scheme of the 
new tax and free trade in suspense. 

No complete picture can as yet be drawn of the re- 
sults of the food campaign for 1921. But preliminary 
and detached facts testify to an ominous failure in all 
details of the program. In the first place, it was made 
known too late in the rural districts, and a great number 
of local committees refused their cooperation and con- 
tinued to levy grain by force. In the second place, the 
scheme met with suspicion and opposition on the part 
of the population which very often looked at the tax 



THE DECLINE OF BOLSHEVISM 227 

in kind as an addition to the former assessment, not 
a substitute for it. The attempts of the Government 
compulsorily to increase the planted area, on the oc- 
casion of the spring seed failed. Sometimes the irri- 
tated population went to the limit of burning the Gov- 
ernment seeds. At last the central authorities yielded 
to necessity and decided to come back to the former 
methods of compulsion. In December Lenin ordered 
the Executive Committee to resort to force for collect- 
ing the arrears of the tax in kind, said to amount to 
100 million poods. Beginning with Dec. 10, the Execu- 
tive Committee had to work "day and night," in order 
to finish the collection before Christmas. The most 
energetic communist workers were "flung" into the 
provinces and the revolutionary tribunals prepared to 
punish the recalcitrants. 

I do not know what was the result of this new effort. 
But figures given by the Food Commissariat on Oc- 
tober 6, 1921 (the agricultural year ends with Sep- 
tember) were far from promising. The Commissariat 
had collected: 

Tax in kind 34.9 million poods 

From the Soviet Estates 1 0.6 " " 

Return of seed loans 5.7 " " 

Sundry 4. " " 

From the Ukraine 13.3 " " 



58.5 



1 The "Soviet Estates" is an attempt to introduce communism into 
agriculture. The land taken over for Soviet estates is exclusively 
that which formerly belonged to the large landowners. Of course, 
only a small part of that land . could be given for communist or 
collectivist experiments, as the peasants took most of it (86 per cent., 
or 20.8 million dessiatines out of 24.1) for individual holdings. The 
"Soviet Estates" (Sovkhoses) received about 9 per cent, of that land. 
For 1921 the "Sovkhoses" were expected to sow over half a million 



228 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

As we know the total amount of the tax in kind was 
to be 240 or at least 180 million poods, while the total 
requirement of food for the Soviet Government was 
about 400 millions (see above). You now see that 
the situation had become quite tragic, and drastic 
changes were to be introduced into the food budget 
for the Government to be able further to sustain them- 
selves and their chief supporters. If all could not be 
fed by the State, a choice of the most necessary ones 
had to be made by the Government. 

We have proofs that the Bolshevist Government has 
indeed trodden that path of self-liquidation. The Red 
bureaucracy — or rather such part of it as had filled up 
its ranks involuntarily, in order not to starve, were the 
first to be sacrificed. The announcement was pub- 
lished that a full 2y 2 million, especially women, were 
to be given notice. We also have the figures of a pro- 
gram of food distribution for 1922 (October to Oc- 
tober), covering all the persons who will receive food 
from the State, exclusive of the Ukraine and Turkestan, 
some special fund, and the fund of the army. This 

dessiatines and to yield a surplus of over 5% million poods of grain, 
W2 million poods of groats, 5% million poods of potatoes, 7 mil- 
lion of vegetables and a great amount of grain fodder. The figure 
given in the text shows how small was the actual contribution. Here 
is the picture of the "Soviet Estates" given in the official organ The 
Economic Life of April 17, 1921. "In most of the Sovkhoses there 
is no staff of permanent workmen, the whole work being done by 
daily laborers, to whom the welfare of the whole enterprise is a mat- 
ter of indifference. The work is done in a very reckless way, and 
the worst feature is that everything that can be carried away_ is 
stolen: reins, harness, sometimes even the plow, together with 
the horse. In some cases, the Sovkhose consists of a mansion, a 
garden, some fields, one or two cows and a horse. The manager 
uses the horse for his pleasure rides, and the farming is done by 
the peasants of the surrounding villages, who distribute the fields 
among themselves, and receive in payment half of the harvest." 
Very often also a Sovkhose consumes more than it produces and is 
classified as "consuming" or "self-supporting." 



THE DECLINE OF BOLSHEVISM 229 

program also shows great reductions to be made, es- 
pecially in the civil service, and great pessimism con- 
cerning the resources to be drawn upon. The food 
resources are here estimated as follows (cf. the figures 
above) : 

Food levy, return of seed loans and 

charge for milling 160 million poods 

From free trade 15 

From the Ukraine 57 " " 

Total 232 " 

Deducting for fodder 45 



Grain and grits, total 187 



n 



The ration is based on 2,600 calories per person per 
day. The groups of the .population which still are 
to be cared for by the State are (the numbers of "eaters" 
is doubled, to include the "families") : 

Yearly ration 
Workingmen: Eaters (thousands of poods) 

Transportation 1,800,000 24,300 

Industry 2,300,000 31,050 

Soviet Employees: 

(in central boards) . . . 2,350,000 28,200 
Children, invalids, 

charity, prisoners... 925,000 11,306.3 

Seed loans " 15,000 

Famine Relief " 12,000 

Sundries " 13,292.45 

Total 7,375,000 135,168.7s 1 

1 Probably the rest, as compared with the figure of 187 million 
poods of grain and grits and 45 million poods fodder, is intended 
to a great extent to feed the Red Army. Of course, the arrears of 
the assessed amounts were also to be taken in consideration. 



230 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

It is explained in the Economic Lije of October 18, 
1921, from which these figures are taken, that "the 
number of persons supplied by the State has diminished 
three times by comparison with the preceding year. 
Food is no longer to be supplied to the non-working 
population and the number of workmen and employees 
in the State institutions and enterprises has been de- 
creased." 

This is the beginning of the end. The "conscious 
minority," after having exhausted the resources of the 
country, limit the circle of privileged groups per- 
mitted to share in their power and confine the func- 
tions of the Communist State to the strict limit of run- 
ning its own machinery. The old saying: L'etat c'est 
moi of the King-Sun of France is now undisguisedly 
made a motto of the King-Red-Star. If left to itself 
the Red Star will last as long as there will be some- 
thing to sacrifice and to sell in exchange for its further 
existence. Its excuse will always remain the same: 
waiting for the great World Revolution. 

There are two things which can cut short that long 
waiting. One is the changing state of mind of the 
popular masses. We have noted the symptoms of that 
change in this chapter. But this is the political side 
of the question. I purposely confined myself in this 
chapter to the economic side, — to the state of the eco- 
nomic resources of the country. There is a limit to 
their exhaustion, and we have seen how this limit is 
being gradually reached. Can that limit be over- 
stepped with impunity? Beyond it is death and de- 
struction. Destruction and death are in Russia. The 
ghastly summary of the four years of Soviet domina- 
tion is the great Russian Famine of 1921. 



MOURilANSK. 



ARCHANGEL 



REVAL- 



RI6A- 



PETROSRAD 



MOSCOW \ V, 



NOVOROSSIYSK 




8 J ft 



ASTRAKHAN 
VOLGA 



Official Soviet Map on Famine in Russia. 



CHAPTER VIII. 

THE FAMINE. 

The year 1921 will be remembered as the first year 
of the great Russian Famine. None similar to it can 
be found in Russia's history. It is as unparalleled and 
unprecedented as the events that caused it. 

The wide extent of the disaster which has befallen 
Russia can be seen from the map. I have purposely 
selected this one because it represents an official state- 
ment by the Soviet Government. It was presented by 
Dr. Nansen at the second session of the League of Na- 
tions at Geneva, in September, 1921, on his coming 
back from Moscow. As the map covers only the part 
of European Russia directly controlled by Moscow, the 
Ukraine is not included, although it is also suffering 
from poor crops. 

The Northwestern part of Russia (No. 8) — the only 
part which has connection with the outer world, 
through the Baltic States — is also the only part which 
had the average or normal crops of 51 poods and over 
of cereals from a "dessiatine," i.e., 680 lbs. per acre 
("pood" = about 36 lbs.; "dessiatine" = 2.7 acres). 
But this does not mean that this part of Russia had 
surpluses of grain to dispose of. It is the grain-import- 
ing region, and was never able to live on its own pro- 
duction of cereals: If left to its own resources, its 
population is bound to be underfed. 

231 



232 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

The Southeastern part of Russia is its grain-produc- 
ing and exporting region. And this region is colored 
on the map in black of different shades. This is the 
famine-stricken area. The strip which includes the 
spots numbered 1, 2, 3, 4, extends beyond the frame of 
this map, to the Ukraine in the West and to the Asiatic 
provinces in the East. The intensely black area desig- 
nated by 1 is the basin of the lower Volga and Kama 
to which all the horrors refer, as described below. The 
crops were here less than one-tenth of the average, i.e., 
less than 5 poods per dessiatine (68 lbs. per acre). 
Twice this amount is necessary for seed only. The 
minimum annual consumption of grain on which a 
Russian can exist (lacking other foodstuffs) is calcu- 
lated as 13.5 poods (486 lbs.) 

The areas designated by 2 are next to the former 
ones: their production was less than one-fifth of the 
normal, i.e., less than ten poods (136 lbs. per acre). 
No. 3 and No. 4 mark areas with less than two-fifths 
of normal crops and Nos. 5, 6, 7 — less than three-fifths, 
four-fifths and the normal. 

It is exceedingly difficult to give the exact figures 
as to just how much grain Russia lacks and must im- 
port. However, one thing is certain and admitted by 
the Bolsheviks in their most optimistic estimates. Rus- 
sia cannot feed herself by her own surpluses. Even 
if Russia's entire crop could be equally distributed 
among the whole population of Russia, the population 
would be put on a starvation ration. But no such 
equal distribution was possible, in the first place, be- 
cause such surpluses as were to be found outside the 
famine-stricken area were badly needed by the Bol- 
sheviks themselves, to feed their army and their of- 
ficials. In the second place, the Bolshevist official 



THE FAMINE 233 

sources admit that they would be unable to transport 
the necessary grain to the starvation area. Under such 
conditions, every region had to rely on its own resources. 

The estimates of the Soviet authorities, as to the 
total figure of food-shortage in Russia, generally opti- 
mistic, varied considerably during the year. At the 
end of October, the Bolshevist Central Statistical Bu- 
reau gave the following figures which it considered as 
definitive. The famine-stricken area covers more than 
20,000,000 planted dessiatines, with 32,000,000 rural 
population and 5,500,000 urban inhabitants. It com- 
prises 41% of the entire planted area in Russia, 33% 
of the rural population and 30% of the urban popu- 
lation. The minimal consumption of grain is estimated 
for the famine- stricken area as 240,000,000 poods, and 
in the remaining part of Russia as 623,000,000 poods, 
— total 863,000,000. But production is respectively 
123,000,000 and 566,000,000 poods, i.e., there are defi- 
cits in both parts of Russia of 117,000,000 and 57,000,- 
000 poods,— total 174,000,000. It is considered that 
about 60% of this amount could be (theoretically) cov- 
ered with the surpluses of production in the Ukraine 
and some other regions. But about 75,000,000 poods 
or 1,250,000 tons would have to be imported into Rus- 
sia from abroad. This last figure does not agree with 
the 850,000 tons, as asked by the Bolsheviks, nor with 
the 2,000,000 tons as mentioned by Mr. Nansen. As a 
matter of fact neither can be really imported into 
Russia. 

Who is responsible for this shortage of grain and this 
misery? The answer of the Red press is that- it is due 
to the state of exceptional dryness in the famine- 
stricken area. From October 1, 1920, to the end of 
June, 1921, the rainfall (including the snow) was only 



234 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

2.75 inches, while in the ten previous years the average 
rainfall was five times more — 14 inches. The greatest 
part of the rain fell, moreover, before the sprouts ap- 
peared above the surface, and there followed an ex- 
ceptionally early thaw. 

This is quite true. But it is not quite so exceptional. 
This part of Russia is periodically exposed to dry winds 
from the Asiatic deserts. The moving sand of the Asi- 
atic wilderness gradually advances in the western di- 
rection, pushed by the winds. However, a series of 
measures had been tried in the past by the Government 
and by the Zemstvos in order to check this advance and 
to paralyze the detrimental consequences of the recur- 
rent dry seasons (which regularly last for two or three 
years at a stretch, when they come). Perfected meth- 
ods of modern agronomy were used, such as dry farm- 
ing, fastening of the slopes of sandy ravines, planting 
of trees, etc. 

Not only have all these methods been discontinued 
since the Bolshevist domination, but even the normal 
resources of rural economy have been utterly destroyed. 
The import of agricultural implements, which had in- 
creased ten times for the last twenty years before the 
war, has practically ceased, while the local manufacture 
has been unable to supply, e.g., in plows even 10% of 
what has had to be scrapped as outworn. The monthly 
average of the local output of agricultural implements 
— if the figures for 1913 are taken as the hundred — 
represents catastrophic decay : 

1913 1919 1920 1921 

Ploughs 100 23.5 13.8 9.1 

Harrows 100 9. 5.2 2.7 

Reaping-machines 100 10.8 4.9 5. 

Threshing-machines 100 1.1 1.5 5. 



THE FAMINE 235 

1913 1919 1920 1921 

Winnowing-machines 100 17.8 8. 5. 

Scythes 100 124. 1012. 141. 

Reaping-hooks 100 52.8 29.5 

Chaff-cutters 100 37. 8.3 

Another cause of deterioration of conditions in agri- 
culture is the decrease in the number of live stock, due 
to the lack of fodder and to the policy of requisitions 
and assessments by the Soviet authorities. A well- 
known Russian economist, Mr. Lositsky, writing in a 
special Bolshevist organ states that the average con- 
sumption of meat in Russia increased from 0.82 pood 
per capita in 1918-19 to 0.91 in 1919-20 and 1.59 in the 
winter of 1920-21. Cattle were slaughtered in abnor- 
mal quantities owing to a widespread shortage of food 
and fodder. The figures given by the official Red press 
for December, 1920 and February, 1921, show that the 
number of horses has been reduced by 28.6 per cent., 
compared with the pre-war situation (Mr. Maslov 
gives the figure of 43 per cent, for 1916-1920) ; the num- 
ber of horned cattle up to 1920 had been reduced by 
22 per cent. The number of sheep and pigs diminished 
between 1916 and 1920 respectively by 29 and 40 per 
cent, (other economists give 42 and 45 per cent.). At 
the same time, the composition of the herds is danger- 
ously altered, as can be seen from the following figures 
(in per cent, of the whole) : 

HORSES HORNED CATTLE 

Over 1 year Under 4 Over 4 Calves 1-2 yrs. Cows Bulls 

to wkg. years years old over 2 

Foals age years 

1916 .... 10 10.2 6.8 73 29.5 17.5 46.4 1.4 

1920 .... 7.4 7.2 7.4 78 20.5 8.7 68.6 0.5 

The reduction in the number of young horses and 



236 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

horned cattle will make the replenishment of the herds 
difficult through the coming years. 

The amount of available manure diminished pro- 
portionally to the decrease in the number of the live 
stock. But mineral fertilizers, which were being im- 
ported into Russia in increasing quantities (from 5.8 
million poods in 1889 to 35.3 million poods in 1912), 
are completely lacking while the home production is 
too trifling to meet the requirements. The intensity of 
cultivation has declined accordingly. 

To a certain extent, the conditions created by war 
and by revolution account for all the phenomena de- 
scribed. But they cannot explain the continuing decay 
of agriculture after four years of the Bolshevist regime. 
Just how far the regime itself is responsible can be es- 
pecially well seen from the gradual decrease of the area 
under cultivation. The annual "Narodnoye Kho- 
zystvo" for 1921, published by the Bolshevist "Supreme 
Council of National Economy," gives a general picture 
of that process which can serve us as a basis for further 
conclusions. "The area under crops," the annual states, 
"in 1916 was certainly reduced as compared with the 
pre-war years. . . . The former Ministry of Agricul- 
ture estimated its decrease in 1916 as 6 per cent, as 
compared with the figures of 1914. . . . The Revolu- 
tion has exerted a strong influence on the peasantry, 
by effecting a shifting in its ranks and by giving to the 
peasants the land of the former landowners. But the 
agricultural production, taken by itself, in its methods 
and results, has remained the same as before. This 
fact is to a great extent responsible for the decrease in 
the area actually cultivated by the peasants, which has 
been going on since 1917. The census of 1917, which 
was taken in conditions in which both the influence of 



THE FAMINE 237 

the war and that of the beginning of the Revolution 
(agrarian disturbances) had found their expression, 
gave an area under crops almost equal to that of 1916. 
In the 23 provinces we are comparing, taking the area 
in 1916 as 100, we arrive at the figure 97.5 for 1917." 
"In 1919 the area under crops was greatly reduced as 
compared with 1917, the decrease amounting to 16.4 
per cent. In 1920 the decrease proceeded further, and, 
if 13 provinces may be regarded as a fair sample, the 
coefficient of decrease reached 27.3 per cent." The de- 
crease in the seeds for 1921 is approximately estimated 
as 13.4 per cent, of the area of 1920. 

Now, if we take the planted area of 1914, the last 
normal year, as 100, the progressive diminution of the 
area cultivated will express itself in the following fig- 
ures: 



1914 


1916 


1917 


1919 


1920 


1921 


100 


94 


91.6 


74.4 


58.9 


51 



We see that the factors of war (1916) and revolution 
(1917) were not decisive, and that the really catas- 
trophic change came as a result of the Bolshevist policy, 
as described in a previous chapter (VII). The famine 
began as early as 1919 and 1920, with the shrinking 
of the planted area to three-fourths and two-fifths of 
its normal size. It fell down to the half of the area 
planted before the war in 1921. Under such a condi- 
tion, shortage of food has become an inevitable con- 
sequence, even if there were good crops in Russia. 
The worst of it is that this situation is bound to last 
as long as the causes that brought it about last. Famine 
has become endemic in Russia. 

A Russian eye-witness of Tatar descent who saw 
the origin of the disaster at one of the places where it 



238 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

is at its worst, in the so-called "Tatar Republic," i.e., 
in the Kazan Province on the Volga, thus testifies to 
its connection with the Bolshevist policy of requisition- 
ing grain. 1 ^The cause of the poor crops is, of course, 
an unprecedented heat and dryness. . . . But the rea- 
son why these poor crops brought on a famine which 
menaces the lives of millions is that in the last year 
grain was requisitioned with unheard-of severity in the 
Volga region, and the agents, received special thanks 
from the 'Central Committee' for having collected 170 
per cent, of the amount assessed. ... It was a real orgyj 
The whole area of the Tatar Republic at the time of the 
requisition looked like a conquered country delivered as 
booty to the victorious soldiers. Violence, looting, brib- 
ery, orgies of drunken commissaries, night visits to 
private houses, arrests and shots and what not were 
daily occurrences. [They left the peasants from their 
crops of 1920 an amount of food barely sufficient to 
sustain life until the next crops on starvation rations. 
In fact, the peasant could feed on that grain only until 
the spring, 1921. Even thus he had to consume a part 
of his seed reserve, and as a result almost 40 per cent, 
of the summer fields remained unsown. You probably 
think that the famine began on the Volga only in 
July or even in August. This is not true. Thafamine 
has been raging with us from the very springy It is 
only the panics, the 'migration of people? that began 
in June. At that moment the last ray of hope of get- 
ting good crops this year was lost, wells and lakes had 
dried up, fields and meadows transformed themselves 
into continuous sunburnt yellow steppes, and whole 
herds of cattle had begun to die. . . . Pictures and 

*A personal letter, written at the end of September, 1921, after 
the author thereof escaped from Bolshevist Russia. 



THE FAMINE 239 

correspondence from the famine-stricken provinces are 
all true, but they do not reflect the hundredth part of 
the real horrors, and the correspondents, much honored 
and closely observed by the Bolshevist authorities, can- 
not discover the hidden corners and heartrending scenes 
of actual life." 

This criticism is not quite justified, as in the corre- 
spondences of Mr. Bechhofer in the London Times, Mr. 
Gibbs in the Chicago Tribune, and in the articles and 
reports of Mr. Hoover's representatives and agents 
one can find descriptions which give an adequate im- 
pression of the Russian distress. But a Russian can 
see the same things from a different angle and has the 
inside view which may be lacking with a foreigner. 
To complete the picture drawn by foreign correspond- 
ents, let me quote from the Russian sources, and chiefly 
from the Red papers published in Bolshevist Russia. 

Here is a picture of that "migration of peoples" at 
its initial state, when no help was forthcoming and no 
foreign correspondents had been able, to reach the suf- 
fering regions. I quote from the same letter of my 
Moslem witness, which was not intended for publica- 
tion. 

"As early as the end of June, 1921, the streets and squares 
of Kazan, as well as the strip of land 4% miles long between 
the city and the pier, were packed by the starving crowd. 
The police gave up all attempts to disperse them, and indeed 
there was no place where they could go. Starving people 
were literally lying everywhere with their children and their 
sick: they could be shot but not removed. They lay pros- 
trate for days, nay, for weeks. After having eaten up all 
they had brought with them and sold out everything they 
possessed, they besieged the Bolshevist institutions, begging 
for food and permits to go further. After a while some of 
them died in the same places, on the street. The remain- 
ing ones gradually disappeared, nobody knew where. New 



240 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

crowds were pouring into the town, taking their places in 
the streets, lying down, or dying, or going away in their 
turn. A human corpse on the streets of Kazan became a 
familiar appearance and it no longer frightened any one. 
We stepped over them without minding it. It is only here 
(outside Russia) that I came to my senses, and I now can- 
not dispel that vision. It seems to me as if they were still 
lying in the same places, men, women, children, side by side. 
When I went out at the end of June to the pier, the meadows 
between the river and the town presented a continuous black 
mass of people for weeks awaiting their turn for a place on 
the steamer. They lay days and nights in the open fields; 
the sun burnt pitilessly, the hot wind raised clouds of dry 
dust, and they drank water from a putrid swamp nearby. 
... It was an endless open-air hospital with cobblestones 
or filthy e'arth beneath them, instead of beds, with rags, 
dirty sacks and pieces of bast, instead of blankets. Most 
of them purposely passed their time lying down, to quell 
their pains of hunger and not to be forced to take food too 
often. But many were unable to get up because they were 
ill. Some had the convulsions of cholera, and such as died 
from cholera continued to lie in their places. 

"I cannot describe the scenes of free fights, of children 
and sick trodden down under the feet at the entrance to the 
steamer. Many thousands pressed for places, and our 
steamer was packed beyond its limit. It did not stop at the 
following landing stations, as everywhere it was the same 
crowd of thousands of people waiting and the same night- 
mare would repeat itself. One could not move on the docks. 
There starving people covered with rags lay everywhere. 
They ate a kind of stale black bread prepared from a mix- 
ture of acorn and seeds of orach, roots and grass. On the 
ninth day, when we were reaching Perm (another provincial 
city up the Kama River), not more than twenty people 
(besides the crew) were moving about. All the others. lay 
in their places, like dead. Corpses were regularly thrown 
into the water in the night time. In Perm the picture was 
the same: the pier, the station, the streets and squares filled 
with a starving crowd in rags, waiting for a train to go to 
Siberia . . . 

"I recollect very well the famine of 1891. At that time 



THE FAMINE 241 

there were no dreadful scenes and no unheard-of panics. 
The population waited quietly for help and believed that 
help would come. Now they do not believe anybody, they 
are in complete despair and suspect lies and mockery every- 
where. . . . The commissars declared in the villages that 
other States far from sending help wish Russia to starve, 
as they are ruled by capitalists. . . . And the peasant does 
not expect the grain to come from anywhere." 

Such was the situation in June, 1921. No local help 
and no help in sight, either from within or from outside 
of Russia. Under normal conditions there were store- 
houses filled with grain in every village community. 
Now most of these storehouses were empty. In the 
past there were good ways of communication, good 
crops elsewhere and good people ready to help. Now 
the ways of communication are completely broken 
down, crops are insufficient everywhere and no public 
opinion is permitted to organize to work for relief inde- 
pendently from the Bolshevist authorities. The popu- 
lation is purposely kept in the dark and consciously 
misled as to the feelings of the "bourgeois" world 
towards the "proletarian" Republic. Under such condi- 
tions, nothing could be expected, indeed, and the peas- 
ants took to the ancient Russian recourse in times of 
utter despair: to flight from their homes. 

Of course, not all could afford it. Only such as had 
something to sell, as still possessed a horse and a car- 
riage, were able to take their families with them, to 
shut the doors and the windows of their houses, and 
to go. Where to? They did not know that them- 
selves. They went to the East, to Siberia, the rich 
country and the last to be exhausted. They went to the 
Southeast, to Turkestan: they had heard that some- 
where beyond there was an "Indian king" who might 
help them. They went to the Northwest, to big cities, 



242 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

to Moscow, in the first place, because there was a 
Government there which must know. They also went 
to the Western frontier, to meet "the Americans" : the 
American help — the only one that was not a mere illu- 
sion and did not delude them. . . . 

But it took time for the American help to come. 
In the meantime, the "migration of peoples" con- 
tinues. The peasants go in crowds, in long files of 
vehicles. They fill up the roads. The same dreadful 
scenes repeat themselves as they go. Days and weeks 
pass, all supplies are consumed, and there is no more 
fodder for the horse. The horse dies on the way and 
the whole starving family is left alone in the midst of 
that endless strip of a road that leads nowhere. The 
father tries to find some food in the neighboring village. 
But the local population is hostile, as their own reserves 
are scant and it is no good to share them with new- 
comers. The reasoning is the same as that heard by 
Mr. Goodrich from a peasant in the Samara Province. 
"There is not enough to keep us alive until next har- 
vest. So if we divide up now and do not get help, we 
shall all starve to death. It is better that some should 
die in order that others may live." The words of hor- 
rible realism are followed by acts. The peasants of the 
villages along the highways arm^themselves and ward 
off any one asking for food, xhe road is thus turned 
into a solitude in the midst of densely peopled regions, 
and the Caravan of Death is left to go its way of perdi- 
tion. If it succeeds in reaching a provincial town, in the 
direction of Moscow, Red soldiers wait for the starving 
crowd ; the towns are entrenched as for a regular siege. 
The soldiers fire at the approaching crowd. . . . 

The father thus comes back helpless to the eagerly 
waiting family. He has not found any food. The 



THE FAMINE 243 

mother, the grandmother, the children lie flat in their 
carriage. They are too sick to feel any emotion. Si- 
lently, noiselessly, they die one by one, and off he goes 
on foot and alone, from the place of his catastrophe. 

The great majority, the rank and file, are too poor 
to try their escape in flight. They remain in the village. 
Let us go there. This is a description — one of the many 
— which I take from a Bolshevist newspaper. It is the 
Samara Province and district, the village of Semeykino, 
in August, 1921. "It is so silent now in the Russian 
village. There is something solemn in this sinister 
silence. We lift our hats, as if in the presence of death. 
And indeed, death is in the streets, death is in the ham- 
lets. The people speak in whispers. Men and women 
wear clean holiday shirts, and all the houses are 
cleansed. They walk about the streets in silent medi- 
tation, as if without protest, in fatalistic submission to 
their fate. They are marching to the encounter with 
death. They have even calculated the exact time when 
death will come. 'We now feed on grass and on birch 
tree leaves. But soon the frost will strike. By the old 
style the grass- eating will come to an end on the 14th 
(29) of September. There will be no leaves then. 
Well, we may somehow hold on as late as the beginning 
of November. But later on we all shall have to die. 
Before Christmas every one of us will be buried in the 
graves.' " In the spring of 1922, Semeykino (tKe word 
means "little family") will be empty. 

"Where are your people?" another Bolshevist corre- 
spondent asks his driver, as in August he enters Ivan- 
ovka, in the Pugachov district of the Samara govern- 
ment. "Have they all died?" The idea is suggested 
by the abandoned houses on the outskirts, with their 
straw roofs torn off for fodder. "Well," the driver an- 



244 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

swers, "why should they walk about? They have 
enough of walking, with that grass-eating. They 
mostly lie down. Let us go to the church; there will 
be some people there." And indeed, round Father Paul, 
the village priest, there is a small gathering. "It is 
difficult for them to walk," he confirms; "they are, 
as you see, all exhausted to the limit. Most of them 
have swollen legs; they walk on sticks and they reel. 
But to-day they have come because they have heard 
of your coming." Maybe, help will come? "It is time 
to help us, otherwise there will be no starving people, 
but dying only. Two hundred have already died from 
starvation in our village; two of them just died to- 
day." They tell him their story. The underfeeding 
began at Easter time (end of March). But there were 
hopes for good crops. Week after week they were 
waiting for rain, but in vain were all prayers. There 
was a drought. Instead of 200 poods from a dessiatine, 
they finally expected to collect 20 or 30. But there 
came locusts. "Probably, God is against us," they de- 
cided. Father Paul would know, and they asked him : 
"Tell us, Father Paul, is this really the end? Just tell 
us that we may know in advance." "Is it not a quiet 
people?" the correspondent remarked. "Well, you see 
for yourself: they are just like wet rags; you will hear 
no sound from them." 

However, they have their own way of passive pro- 
test. Here is another church gathering in Sarapul, a 
district town on the Kama River. The background is 
always the same. Babies with swollen bellies, mothers 
trying to suckle them with breasts void of milk, wom- 
en's cries and lamentations, men clad in sacks imploring 
for alms — in vain; dead horses lying in ditches along 
the road, in complete decomposition, full of worms. 



THE FAMINE 245 

Doctors walk around looking perplexed, with no drugs 
and at a loss as to what can be done. Red guards and 
secret police agents listen to the people's talk, ill-tem- 
pered and thrown-off the scent. Carriages filled up 
with corpses move slowly along the streets; the thin 
and yellow legs of the deceased shake queerly in rhythm 
with the jerks of the wheels. A priest in surplice goes 
among that mournful gathering and hastily performs 
ritual ceremonies for the dying members of the com- 
munity. The bells of the church tinkle, tremulous 
and uncertain. On the porch a little old man with 
scraggly beard speaks to the peasant crowd in sub- 
dued whispers. "To death you will come, where- 
ever you go! Yes, to death! All will die. Have 
you ever seen how wolves run from the forest fire, 
how bears walk about in the villages!? Well, 
they run for their lives. Now, you, brethren, you beg- 
gars, where do you mean to go? I say unto you: You 
will not run away, no, — not run away from death ! 
God, my Lord : Hast Thou not designated our hour? 
Who are we to escape Thine hour, Lord? And thou, 
soul of man: Why dost thou toss about? Dost 
thou not know where thy limit is laid? Fire in the 
wood, fire in the sky, fire in the heart, fire in the hut. 
. . . Let us burn in the fire, brethren, let us burn! 
Comets will rise in heaven and stars will fall down to 
earth. Void and empty has the Russian land become. 
Let us burn in fire, brethren, let us burn ! " 

There is a curious parallel between this propaganda 
of self-burning and that which was carried on at the 
end of the XVII Century by fanatic priests among the 
persecuted sectarians. Thousands burnt themselves in 
their houses or on wood piles, saving their souls from 
the life which had become unbearable. This old form 



246 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

of Russian passive protest has been revived. The cor- 
respondent just quoted, while leaving Sarapul, drew at- 
tention to an ash-heap at the side of the road. The 
driver told him that this had been a chapel. The in- 
habitants of a village nearby had all fled away. The 
few that were unable to go shut themselves up in the 
chapel and set fire to it. "People say they were singing 
songs, — namely, in the fire. . . . Probably, psalms," 
the driver commented. Obviously, the old man on the 
porch of the church did not preach in vain. . . . 

There have been also other methods of collective 
suicide. Sometimes, whole families have locked them- 
selves in their houses, shut chimney and window open- 
ings, filled the house with smoke and suffocated them- 
selves. Sometimes mothers with children have 
drowned themselves in rivers. My Moslem witness 
mentions an instance of an old woman with her little 
granddaughter. The woman wrapped herself in a 
shroud, took her Koran and went to a minaret of a 
mosque. After a week both corpses were found there 
in a state of decomposition. . . . 

"When will the help come? Will it not be too late? 
Will these starving people live long enough to be able 
to make use of it?" These questions are anxiously put 
to every one who visits the famine-stricken area. The 
unvarnished truth is that there is no answer to that 
question, except that millions will die — are sure to die 
— before help can be given. But "millions" is a figure, 
and figures do not speak. Let me give you one single 
instance to bring home the whole meaning of that 
merciless truth. I take the picture again from a Bol- 
shevist correspondence. We are at Samara, at the rail- 
way station. In the first-class dining-room there is ex- 
quisite food, everything you like to order, tasty white 



THE FAMINE 247 

bread, steaks, pork chops, wine, ice-cream, fruits, long 
tables covered with snow-white linen, flowers in vases 
of crystal. But this is for the commissars and "specu- 
lators," the nouveaux-riches. A few feet away there 
is that human cloaca known to us, with its unbearable 
stink of foul clothes and half-dead corpses, covered with 
black dust and clouds of flies, one mass of filth, rags 
and refuse. On that background, here is the picture: 

"Under the very windows of our railway car starving 
children are lying day and night, and all the day and all 
night long you hear one single endless call: 'Give us bread, 
little uncle!' A girl is dying just here, under my window. 
She is about sixteen, a good-looking girl, thin and well 
shaped. She lies on her back, with closed eyes. Now and 
then she opens her eyes, for a few minutes, and she stares 
at the sky, with her immovable, deadly gaze. When in the 
morning I get up and look out she is there, in the same pos- 
ture, clad in black, pale-faced, with her eyes shut, with 
arms folded on her breast. When in the evening I come 
back, she is always there, as immovable as before. I bring 
her bread and milk. She does not want it — nay, she cannot 
eat. I try to persuade her. She half-opens her eyes, she 
looks at me with an absent-minded, unearthly glance. I 
wish to lift her and to bring her into the car. It seems to 
me that she can still be saved. She does not say anything. 
But she throws at me an imploring glance, as if she were 
saying: 'Do not touch me; let me die.' This glance 
frightens me; I flee away. I become frightened and I am 
afraid of being left alone with the dying girl. . . . But I 
cannot sleep. The night passes away, and it seems to me 
as if I dreamt nightmare dreams. I want to get up. A long, 
clear star-lit night that never ends. Shall I go out, look at 
her? I am too much frightened. ... At daybreak I run to 
the town in search of a doctor. Maybe I can save her. 
After three hours of running from one hospital to another, 
I finally find a student associated with a mission for combat- 
ting epidemics. — 'Hurry up, doctor!' — We drag along to the 
station. We have come. 'Hurry up, doctor!' We run to my 



248 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

car. She lies there, in the same posture, immovable, with 
closed eyes, with thin, pale, little childish hands crossed on 
her breast. The student bows to her, takes her hand. . . . 
She is dead. She died about half an hour ago! ..." 

It is especially children that cannot wait and fall 
the first victims. Their mothers cannot bear their suf- 
ferings. They kill them, they drown them in the rivers, 
they die together in the smoke of their locked huts, — or 
they leave them alone on the streets and before the 
doors of the Soviet institutions. In the streets of Sa- 
mara two hundred children have been picked up daily, 
abandoned by their parents. In the streets of the 
town of Ufa 150 children are being picked up daily, 
abandoned by their parents. As to the general number 
of children starving, the following figures were given 
by the Bolsheviks in the autumn, 1921 : 300,000 chil- 
dren in the Chuvash Republic; 1,500,000 in the Tatar 
Republic; over 500,000 in the Ufa Province; 800,000 in 
the Province of Simbirsk. "According to official data, 
there are at present (September, 1921) no less than 
9,500,000 starving children in Russia." The figure 
may seem exaggerated. It is at any rate exaggerated 
for to-day, as the mortality has been too great for this 
number of children to be still among the living. A 
Bolshevist report published in October, 1921, at Berlin, 
states that "the mortality in some cases is as high as 75 
per cent. Cholera, dysentery and typhus prevail, in 
addition to the horrors of starvation. Children's homes 
are often characterized as "ante- chambers of death." 

To take an instance, this is a description of one of 
these children's homes in Samara (previous to Ameri- 
can relief), by Mr. Mark Krinitsky, a Bolshevist cor- 
respondent. 



THE FAMINE 249 

"Alongside the wall some ten little children's bodies 
lay on bare wooden boards without any bedding, clad 
in skirts alone. Their glassy eyes looked mournful and 
hopeless. Their thin hands and legs looked like sticks 
with knots at the joints. The tightened skin of their 
old-looking faces bore the stamp of death. A nurse 
bowed carefully over each one in turn to drive off the 
greedy, sticky 'dead house' flies, sticking round their 
immovable victims. ... It was still worse in the next 
room. If 5 to 10 per cent, of these children will live on, 
it will be a good result, says the superintendent of this 
cemetery of children." 

At last the help comes. But it is not sufficient to 
satisfy everybody. It will take much time and patience 
until experiences like the following one are no more 
repeated. I take it from a Bolshevst periodical. The 
correspondent writes from the station of Buzuluk, Prov- 
ince of Samara. 

"A grievous, intolerable, soul-shattering moaning. 
Our railway-carriage is besieged on all sides. People 
strive to clamber in at the windows and the doors. The 
children climb up like cats, lose their hold and fall. 
Bony hands at all apertures, accompanied by terrible, 
inhuman cries: 'Bread, for God's sake, bread! Save 
us, help us!' 

"We attempt to give them bread, but scarcely have 
we reached it out, when hundreds of hands clutch at 
us, pull us this way and that, with terrible cries. We 
try to give something to the children, but the adults 
push them aside, striking and biting one another. 
Their eyes, especially those of children, are unnaturally 
bright. They no longer bear the semblance of children, 
but of aged infants. Their dried-up skin is drawn 



250 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

tight over their prominent bones. Their faces are 
wrinkled, their eyes feverish. Some of them have lost 
their voices and can only move their lips. 

"The starving number hundreds, thousands. I tried 
to arrange them in some kind of queue so as to give 
each one something, if only a bit. But they were mad 
with hunger and each man feared he would get nothing. 
If they see food, the starving tear it out of your hands 
by force. Here is an emaciated little boy of eight, so 
weak he can scarcely stand. One of the passengers at- 
tempts to give him an egg, when suddenly hundreds 
like him make their appearance and with cries and 
tears rush on the passenger, and in one moment the 
egg is broken into atoms." 

The real help has come with the A. R. A. (American 
Relief Administration). A private organization, work- 
ing since the armistice under the chairmanship of Mr. 
Herbert Hoover and with the financial support of the 
United States Government, the A. R. A. has saved the 
lives of about 2,000,000 undernourished children in the 
Baltic States, Poland, Czecho-Slovakia, Austria and 
Hungary. It was decided by Mr. Hoover and his chief 
assistants to make use of the great experience acquired 
by the personnel of the Administration and of the funds 
available, to give the starving Russian children a daily 
meal of the food value of about 800 calories. A satis- 
factory agreement was signed at Riga with the Soviet 
Commissary, Mr. Litvinov, as early as August 20, 1921. 
The A. R. A. reserved for itself complete independence 
from the Bolshevist authorities and free disposal of its 
supplies, while the means of transportation and the 
necessary premises for feeding were to be provided by 
the local authorities. The first food train arrived in 
Kazan on September 17, and others to Samara, Sim- 



THE FAMINE 251 

birsk, Saratov followed rapidly. By November 1 over 
202,000 children were being fed, and by December 1 
the number had reached 750,000. The limit was to 
be 1,200,000, which was to be reached in January, 1922. 
By the end of 1921, 35,000 tons of food had been sent 
from America. But now help is to be further extended, 
including the adults, thanks to President Harding's 
recommendation in his annual message to Congress on 
December 6, for an appropriation to supply the A. R. A. 
with 10,000,000 bushels of corn and 1,000,000 bushels 
of seed grains for the famine victims in the valley of 
the Volga. Governor James P. Goodrich, of Indiana, 
who had just returned from a visit to the famine- 
stricken area, told the Congress that the proposed ap- 
propriation must be doubled, to satisfy the need. He: 
proposed to send to Russia 20,000,000 bushels of corn 
and 5,000,000 bushels of wheat. $20,000,000 was ap- 
propriated by Congress on December 24, 1921. Thus 
the limit was reached of what Mr. Hoover thought it 
possible to transport to the starving area during the 
next six months, taking the probable capacity of the 
railways from the two ports of Riga and Novorossiisk 
that were available (100,000 tons or 6,000,000 poods 
a month). Of course, it is not the limit of Russia's 
need, as may be concluded from a comparison with the 
figures given above. What are- the other resources, if 
any? What can the Soviet Government do, to cope 
with the famine? 

Of course, the official version of the Bolsheviks was 
that the "capitalistic" governments want Russia to 
starve, and that the real help can only be given by the 
international proletariat, directly or under their pres- 
sure. Thus the famine could be made use of for the 
world propaganda. But this was for the gallery. At 



252 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

the same time, behind the scenes the question of an 
international loan to be given to the repentant Bolshe- 
vism was being discussed in London, and probably else- 
where. The aim of the loan was to be — economic re- 
construction, useful and necessary to any future 
government in Russia. Would the question of the 
famine promote or hamper the question of a loan? 
The first idea of the Bolshevist Government was to 
simplify the situation by denying the facts of the 
famine. But soon it became impossible. An old Rus- 
sian organization, the Agronomic Society in Moscow, 
met on June 22, 1921, and decided to draw the atten- 
tion of the Soviet Government to the terrible situation 
of the Volga population. The second thought of the 
Government was to use the prominent non-Bolshevik 
members of the Agronomic Society as mediators in 
their negotiations with Western Europe. On July 23, 
an All-Russian Relief Committee was organized by the 
Bolsheviks. Mr. Kishkin and Prokopovich, former 
ministers of the Kerensky Government; Mr. Golovin, 
the President of the Second Duma, with some other 
non-Bolsheviks, were invited to join the committee. 
"For the first time after four years," as Mr. Kishkin 
said in his introductory speech, "the representatives of 
the governing power have met the representatives of 
non-official circles in order to start, in common accord, 
on a work of national and social significance." The 
character and the real causes of the disaster were stated 
openly in the same speech. "The famine," Mr. Kishkin 
stated, "has been aggravated by the deep and general 
crisis in the economic life of the country. An almost 
complete ruin of industry, a considerable decline in 
productivity of work, a conspicuous diminution of sown 
area, an exhaustion of reserves formerly accumulated, 



THE FAMINE 253 

the disorganization of transportation, the depreciation 
of the ruble, — all these evils have made the poor crops, 
caused by bad weather, bring about a really catastro- 
phic situation. Most decisive and complete measures 
are necessary in order that all classes of the population 
who are in the same predicament may take part in the 
struggle." 

We shall see in another place that just that attempt 
to unite the non-Bolshevist Russia in that gigantic task 
of helping themselves made the Bolsheviks suspicious 
and brought the work of the Moscow committee to a 
speedy close. As it has always been the chief aim of 
the Bolsheviks to influence public opinion outside of 
Russia by their display of moderation, they planned 
to send the leaders of the committee on a mission to 
Britain, France and probably America. Negotiations 
have been started to that effect. But in the meantime 
the Bolsheviks saw that they could talk with the 
outer world without intermediaries. After the agree- 
ment with Mr. Hoover they concluded another, much 
more favorable for them, with Mr. Nansen. They re- 
served for themselves the complete control of supplies 
to be received through Mr. Nansen and, in addition, 
they empowered Mr. Nansen to negotiate a loan for 
them to the amount of £10,000,000 (September, 1921). 

However, this time they were very much disap- 
pointed. On Mr. Nansen's coming back to Geneva 
from Moscow, he met with a very skeptical reception 
on the part of the League of Nations. His agreement 
was found unsatisfactory, and his request for credit at 
least premature. Many questions had first to be de- 
cided, such as recognition of debts, conditions of eco- 
nomic reconstruction, the extent of recognition of the 
Soviet Government, etc. The Bolsheviks made things 



254 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

still worse for themselves by their insolent refusal to 
let an international commission of inquiry, headed by 
Mr. Noulens, enter Russia. Thenceforth it was quite 
hopeless for them to expect that Europe would pass 
over the question of economic reconstruction to the 
direct help asked by Dr. Nansen. On October 6, 1921, 
the International Russian Relief Commission in its 
plenary sitting at Brussels repeated its demand for a 
Commission of Inquiry to be sent to the affected areas, 
as a condition of any credit to be given. It emphasized 
the importance of guaranties for the distribution of re- 
lief, and made the following recommendations as to 
the Soviet's request for credits: 

(1) Whatever may be the extent of the famine, no definite 
solution can be found until economic conditions have been 
realized guaranteeing normal production within Russia, and 
until confidence has been sufficiently restored for foreign 
exporters to send their goods to Russia. 

(2) The confidence necessary to secure the support of the 
commercial communities can only be created and maintained 
when Russia's debts and obligations have been recognized 
and all advances to her sufficiently guaranteed. These prin- 
ciples apply both to credits granted by the Governments 
and by private concerns. 

(3) The Conference is thus led to the conclusion that, in 
order to obtain the credits for the purpose of aiding exporta- 
tion to Russia, the two following conditions are absolutely 
essential: — 

(a) The Russian Government must recognize its existing 
debts and other obligations. 

(b) Adequate guarantees must be given for all credits to 
be granted in the future. 

These recommendations hopelessly confounded po- 
litical questions with that of mere philanthropy. The 
Russian democratic parties wished to discriminate be- 



THE FAMINE 255 

tween the immediate help on American lines, which 
they enthusiastically greeted, and the question of re- 
construction which could not be solved as long as the 
Bolsheviks continued in power. The Supreme Council 
of the Allies put itself before an alternative equally 
dangerous on both sides : recognition of the Soviet Gov- 
ernment or complete refusal of help to the suffering 
population. 

The Soviet Government was thus left to its own 
resources and to the aid of voluntary organizations 
(in the first line, the A. R. A.). Its own scheme for 
relief is based on the allotment of some 12,000,000 
poods of flour and grits, 10,000,000 poods of potatoes 
and 1,750,000 poods of meat for the space of time from 
October, 1921, to June, 1922. They expected to feed 
with this a gradually increasing number of children and 
adults: respectively 375,000 and 125,000 in October; 
1,500,000 and 1,000,000 in January, after which the 
number of adults is to increase up to 1,750,000 in 
March. The motive was that "it is necessary to give 
a little food to the workers in the field, so that they 
will not fall down while going behind the plow," and 
that "this is the only way to save the spring seeds from 
being eaten by the starving people." In May the num- 
ber of adults is to decrease, and it comes down to 750,- 
000 in June. One must add that even that scheme does 
not go beyond the feeding of 3,250,000 — the highest 
figure — in March, while the whole starving population 
is estimated for the same time as 12,000,000. The 
amount of seed necessary for the 15 starving provinces 
is estimated by the Soviets as more than 22,000,000 
poods, of which they hoped to buy in Sweden and in 
the Baltic States 5,000,000 poods; to get in exchange 
for goods, through the Cooperatives, another 5,000,000, 



256 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

and to appropriate 15,000,000 from the supply fund. 
Of course, all these were merely plans, and it is impos- 
sible to say what part of them can be realized. The 
last figures of imports of food to be found in the Red 
press refer to December 6, 1921, and they can give us 
a good idea as to the relative proportion of help given 
to the Russian people by different organizations. Here 
are the figures: 

Car-loads 

American Relief Administration 1,265 

Central Russian (Bolshevist) Committee 

Famine Relief 674 

International Children's Relief 180 

Nansen's organization 88 

Quakers' organization 61 

From Bulgaria 60 

Swedish Red Cross 41 

German Volga Committee 8 

Thus, the activity of the American Relief Admin- 
istration is the most conspicuous, and it is only natural 
that the news about the Americans helping Russia has 
traveled to the remotest corners of Russia's provinces. 
No propaganda and no other form of activity could lay 
such a firm foundation for lasting friendship between 
our two countries as the activity of these 75 Americans 
who form the working personnel of the American Re- 
lief Administration. It is no wonder that the Bolshe- 
vist authorities abstain from interference with the 
American work (although they still try to discredit it 
through the press). But even the lawless elements 
which are now so many in Russia, the bandits and the 
robbers, are kept in check by the high moral value of 
that humanitarian activity. I find a touching account 
in a cablegram of the A. R. A. of December 8: 



THE FAMINE 257 

"Raiders, 800 men and women, all dressed in sheepskin 
coats, riding black horses, carrying two rifles, looted all 
Government warehouses, taking what they wanted, telling 
the populace to take the balance. But they left the A. R. A. 
warehouse entirely untouched. The tall thin black-bearded 
leader even knew Floete's name. He made a speech in the 
public square saying that he liked the American representa- 
tive who had humanity at heart and only wanted to feed 
the starving. Coming and going I met several unprotected 
wagon trains carrying our supplies but always left unmo- 
lested when they learned the origin and purpose." 

Before I finish this chapter, let me quote a few more 
passages from recent American reports. They will 
give us the latest news as to the state of the famine 
in Russia and, as was to be expected, they will show 
that the situation far from being improved has become 
worse with the beginning of winter. 

Mr. Rives Childs, regional inspector of the Kazan 
district, made a trip of 560 miles through 12 of the 13 
cantons of the Tatar republic. This is what he wrote 
while on his way (December 17) : 

"Conditions are growing worse by leaps and bounds. I 
am thoroughly convinced after my last trip and on the basis 
of reports we are receiving that to say that half the popula- 
tion of the Tatar republic will starve before the end of the 
winter would be in the nature of a conservative estimate. 
Conditions took a turn for the worse in most cantons be- 
ginning with November and will reach a crisis in January. 
The only meal that 75% of the children in our kitchens are 
receiving to-day is from the A. R. A. Unless the outside 
world awakens to conditions here I doubt if we shall save 
more than half the children we are feeding to-day." 

After his return, Mr. Childs gave (January 5) some 
figures to support his statement: 

"Six hundred thousand children have no resources upon 
which to live through the winter and 50% of these are al- 



258 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

ready in acute need. Excluding the number of children we 
are feeding and a small number reached by Russian Relief, 
only 12% of the remaining population can survive the win- 
ter. During recent months 34% to 72% of the horses have 
been killed for food and cows to even a greater proportion. 
These figures are confirmed in 40 villages representing every 
canton visited." 

To the south from the Tatar Republic the situa- 
tion is the same. Here is the state of things in the 
Bashkir Republic, as reported by the Ufa supervisor 
(January 9) : 

"Of the total population of 2,000,000 of the Ufa Gov- 
ernment half a million are famishing children. Of the 
1,125,000 population of the Bashkir Republic 90% are fam- 
ishing. People are eating their last supplies of food sub- 
stitutes and in some localities are making flour out of bones. 
Government kitchens are soon to be closed because of the 
exhausted supply of foodstuffs." 

A more detailed report from a trip through the 
Bashkir Republic via Samara — Ufa — Sterlitamak 
(the capital) by Mr. Dickinson (December 28) com- 
pletes the ghastly picture: 

"Villages in this region are from 20 to 40% deserted by 
the people fleeing from the famine, and the remaining in- 
habitants are living mostly on bread made from weeds and 
clay. The dead are carted from railroad stations and 
trains at Ufa, Samara and elsewhere by wagon road. When 
a wagon is not immediately available the dead are thrown 
into big bins and snow shovelled over them to preserve the 
bodies. The dead are usually buried in big trenches in cem- 
eteries. At Samara Dickinson, visiting a cemetery late in 
the day, saw 50 bodies still unburied although workmen had 
been busy all day." 

Still more to the south, the situation on the lower 
Volga, about 50 miles southwards from Saratov, is thus 



THE FAMINE 259 

summarized in a report from Mr. Clapp (December 
22): 

"I inspected 15 villages. Children are badly swollen from 
starvation and dying daily. Horses are killed for food and 
soon there will be no live stock left. Total population has 
absolutely nothing in the way of substantial foodstuffs, al- 
most no clothing. There is a general exodus from the dis- 
trict. The roads are teeming with wagons with families 
with few possessions going to Saratov. When asked where 
they are bound for they reply: 'America,' or some place 
where there is bread. All have a vague hope of crossing 
the frontier somewhere and ultimately getting to America." 

These are all cold facts, but we can understand how, 
after having passed through many heartrending 
scenes, the American visitors finally break into pathetic 
appeals. Mr. Childs writes thus from his trip to Ela- 
buga: 

"I am sure that if our representative American citizens 
who sit in Congress, or those diplomats who affect to speak 
for millions of their citizens, could have passed with me 
along the way which I was traveling and could have seen the 
mute appeals I saw in the faces of the hungry and could 
have heard the tales of distress as I heard them told so 
simply, there could exist no doubt as to whether such a 
woman as this (see below) should be given sufficient food 
to endure the winter." 

Here is the distressing scene reported by the ob- 
server : 

"The mother (of two children), a young woman school- 
teacher of about 28, looked tired and despairing (in the 
village school they had tea). Asked what food she herself 
lived on, she answered that she had nothing. She did not 
know what to do to save herself from starvation which 
seemed, in view of conditions confronting her, to be in- 



260 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

evitable. I turned over to her all the food which we were 
carrying with us consisting of two or three pounds of bread 
and as many pounds of rice. The gifts did not elicit from 
her tired face even a smile. The only evidence of any human 
emotion was the glance of tenderness which she bestowed 
upon her children as they scampered about the bread." 

This case was not an exception, as is to be expected. 
Mr. Childs reports: 

"The mothers and fathers of the children, it was found, 
were now running out of food and I believe, in view of this 
fact, that unless it is possible for the A. R. A. to undertake 
adult feeding that it is quite possible in view of the critical 
conditions which are sure to come this winter that the feed- 
ing of the children alone will come, it might also be said, to 
naught." 

Mr. Childs' general conclusion is: 

"It is all bad; there is only a difference of degree. One 
might sum up the situation by saying — some have starved, 
some are starving, and others are on the verge of starvation, 
and it is not a question of months or weeks, but of days." 

I could complete these reports with a number of 
quotations from the Red press, which confirm the 
American descriptions, but enough has been said to 
show how great the need is, how powerless the Soviet 
Government is to cope with it, and how inevitably 
insufficient must be the help from outside. Of course, 
this is by no means an argument against that help. 
Nor do I think that help given to the population can 
strengthen the Bolsheviks. I would not raise my voice 
against the saving of Russian lives even if I thought 
so. But this is not the case. Nothing can help the 
Bolsheviks to their feet again. The disproportion be- 
tween what is necessary for a State to exist and what 



THE FAMINE 261 

can be done by the Soviet power to improve the situa- 
tion can only grow with time. A great nation like 
Russia cannot be saved by philanthropy. It has to 
work out its own salvation, and no salvation can be 
found as long as the State is run on false economic 
principles by people who are not interested in its pres- 
ervation nor in the fate of its population. 



CHAPTER IX. 

RUSSIA TO-MORROW. 

There are two sides to the process I have been de- 
scribing in the preceding eight chapters. "The old 
crumbles down, time brings changes, and from the 
ruins blossoms forth a new life." * I used that quota- 
tion from Schiller twenty-five years ago, to sum up my 
"History of Civilization in Russia." I am tempted to 
use it again, to sum up what some people are inclined 
to call Russia's return to barbarism. 

To be sure, with the background of the World War, 
the Revolution has brought great destruction. Con- 
ditions proved extremely favorable for Bolshevism to 
take hold of the Revolution. But the Revolution in 
Russia is a long process of change in the minds of the 
people and in the institutions. It is organically con- 
nected with the whole process of Russian civilization. 
Bolshevism is only a stage which is passing away. 
Even in this stage the process is not confined to the 
destruction brought about by the Bolshevist power. 
There are many germs of new life blossoming from the 
ruins. The other side of the process is not destructive, 
but constructive. It is this side that makes us hopeful 
in spite of all and proud of our Russia of to-morrow. 

It is probably easier in a great process of change to 
predict what will be the final outcome than to make 

*"Das Alte stiirzt, es andert sich die Zeit, und neues Leben bliiht 
aus den Ruinen." 

262 



RUSSIA TO-MORROW 263 

prophecies as to what is going to happen next. But 
the latter question is generally asked first, and an an- 
swer is suggested in what has been said in Chapters 
VII and VIII. The Bolshevist stage of the great Rus- 
sian Revolution is coming to a close as a consequence 
of two factors: the economic exhaustion and the atti- 
tude of the population towards the present power. 

An outsider easily grows skeptical when he now hears 
about the coming end of the Bolsheviks. Prophecies 
to that effect have been repeated for four years but 
they have proved wrong. The closer observer of Rus- 
sian events knows, however, that these prophecies were 
never entirely mistaken. Mr. Brailsford has just told 
us in his "The Russian Workers' Republic" that one 
of the ablest leaders of Bolshevist Russia made the 
avowal to him that "in 1917 they hardly hoped to 
maintain themselves for two months." There were 
many causes which contributed to their staying. There 
was also a gradual process which eliminated those 
causes, one by one. In Chapters II and III we noted 
the part, that the Bolshevist promises played in their 
success and in the strengthening of their power. But 
gradually the masses saw they were being deluded. 
There was also fear, caused by the organization of 
terror, and this motive is still working. But this factor 
alone can never suffice to sustain the Bolsheviks in 
power once the population has withdrawn its tacit 
moral consent. There were two additional reasons 
which contributed to the moral consent given to the 
Bolsheviks to rule, in spite of the fact that their prom- 
ises had already proved false. In the first place, there 
was that "White" movement. There was a moment, 
especially in 1918-1919, when the population wished 
for the success of the "White" movement and tried to 



264 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

help it. But we also know (Chap. VI) why finally 
the population found that this was " worse than Bol- 
shevism," and chose the lesser evil. From then on the 
" White" movement helped to strengthen Bolshevism 
instead of destroying it. It promoted a national feel- 
ing as against the foreign intervention and it made the 
population realize that they still had to defend their 
social gains from the claims of the dispossessed privi- 
leged class. In the second place, the Bolshevist propa- 
ganda succeeded in implanting in the people the idea 
that a communist revolution was impending all over 
the world, and they naturally concluded that it was 
useless to combat it in Russia. Many a construction 
of Russia's greatness was based on the speculation of 
a convalescent young Russia in the midst of the old 
world grown sick. 

Now these last two causes no longer exist. Since the 
beginning of 1921 there is no "White" movement, and 
the people have to rely on themselves for their salva- 
tion. The consequences of that change of mind have 
already made themselves felt in a series of isolated 
uprisings. On the other hand, even the Bolshevist 
leaders no longer expect the world revolution to come 
at once, although they have not lost faith in it. The 
people are tired of waiting for a world overthrow. The 
objection may be raised that just this state of despair 
as to the possibility of a speedy change to come from 
the outside might move the population to look at the 
Bolshevist regime as final and to support it, by the 
force of a growing tradition. This objection would 
have value if the Bolshevist regime could make itself 
at least minimally acceptable for the nation. But it 
cannot. 

Can Bolshevism evolve? This is the question in dis- 



RUSSIA TO-MORROW 265 

pute. There is no doubt that the Bolshevist power is 
making concessions. But the point is that it makes 
them in order to remain a Bolshevist power. We know 
the reason for their readiness to make concessions: 
it is that Russia is only a means for them, while their 
aim is international and universal. They may change 
the exhausted Russia for some unexhausted place in 
the East : that idea had been discussed and preparations 
had been made in their hour of distress, in 1919. It 
seems to have been revived again, with the increased 
possibilities for some national and even social over- 
throw in Asia (see Chap. V). But the Bolsheviks 
cannot change their system, neither in an exhausted 
Russia, nor in another place: I mean the system of 
arbitrary rule of the Communist Party based on com- 
pulsion. So far as this system is concerned they are 
even less able to compromise than ever autocracy 
was, which fell just because of its incapacity for 
compromise. There was an idea in autocracy 
which could be broken only with autocracy itself. 
There is an idea in Bolshevism which also can- 
not be broken unless Bolshevism is broken. But even 
if there were no idea, if they really were only a gang 
of rascals and assassins, even then to tone down by an 
evolutionary change is impossible for them for the 
reason which one of my American friends formulated 
in the picturesque phrase: "You cannot dismount if 
you ride on a tiger." 

It was Mr. Lloyd George's idea, to which he stuck 
from the time of the invitation of the Bolsheviks to 
Prinkipo, in January, 1919, up to the time of the invita- 
tion to Genoa, in January, 1922, that trade with the 
Bolsheviks will be the powerful factor which will 
smooth down all difficulties and bring into Russia the 



266 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

sobering influence which will gradually transform the 
"cannibals" and "assassins" into a sort of decent gov- 
ernment. Accordingly, a formula of minimum requi- 
sites was sought for to make a civilized intercourse with 
Bolshevist Russia possible at all. Secretary Hughes' 
formula given out in his Note of March 25, 1921, was as 
follows : "It is idle to expect resumption of trade until 
the economic bases of production are securely estab- 
lished. Production is conditioned upon the safety of 
life, the recognition by firm guarantees of private prop- 
erty, the sanctity of contract and the rights of free 
labor." Nobody can say that these are political de- 
mands. They can be complied with by the mere exist- 
ence of a code of civil law, which might be enforced by 
regular judicial institutions, under the supposition that 
there is a legal order defended by the power of the 
State. It is, however, characteristic for Bolshevism 
that the citizens of the very country which entered into 
a formal trade agreement with the Bolsheviks (Great 
Britain in March, 1921) were the first to come to the 
conclusion that no such prerequisites as those just men- 
tioned can exist in Soviet Russia. Mr. Leslie Urquhart 
is the Chairman of the Board of Directors of a powerful 
British company, "The Russo-Asiatic Consolidated, 
Ltd.," possessing important mines and works at Kysh- 
tym, Tanalyk, etc. He received a proposition from 
the Bolsheviks to enter into an agreement concerning 
that property. He went to Moscow and in August and 
September, 1921, discussed with the Concessions Com- 
mission, in all details, the draft of a contract embodying 
27 clauses. As a result, the Company preferred "to 
remain as heretofore claimants against Russia for dam- 
age caused by the Soviet Government for unlawful 
appropriation of properties and working capital." The 



RUSSIA TO-MORROW 267 

motives for this decision are stated by Mr. Leslie Urqu- 
hart in a letter to Mr. Krassin, and they are so closely 
connected with my trend of argument that I may be 
permitted to quote them at some length. Says Mr. 
Urquhart : 

"As communism does not recognize the right to pri- 
vate property on which the previous Civil and Criminal 
Code was based, magistrates have been suppressed and 
Courts of Justice have been abolished. Nothing has 
been substituted for these except a so-called Court of 
revolutionary conscience. Under the new system, taxes 
have been abolished, the mining, factory, customs, for- 
est and railway laws and regulations, in fact all previ- 
ously existing authorities, have been destroyed, as is 
evidenced by the Clauses of that draft Concessions 
Contract reviewed in this letter, and nothing but in- 
complete Decrees and instructions which are issued 
daily have taken their place. Further, the communis- 
tic system does not recognize any obligations between 
individuals and therefore no contract or obligation be- 
tween two persons can be enforced ; nor does the State 
itself recognize any obligation to individuals or sub- 
jects. The only obligation recognized and enforced in 
the communistic State is the absolute subjection of 
every individual to the State. 

"This extraordinary position, the absence of all laws 
and regulations, dominated, as you are aware, the dis- 
cussions all through the negotiations." 

The summary of what was said by the British busi- 
ness man during the negotiations is given by himself in 
the following words: 

"We pointed out that Russia under her present communist 
system of State economy produces nothing to trade with, 



268 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

that the process of unlimited emissions of banknotes has 
utterly exhausted the remnants of credit and that the stocks 
of products and materials of the old capitalistic system had 
been used up. The abolition of rights to property, of eco- 
nomic freedom and the complicated system of economic re- 
strictions generally have killed individual initiative and 
enterprise while the elimination of private gain had de- 
stroyed all incentive to work and produce. The policy 
of nationalization of all industry and trade had killed for- 
eign credits, and foreign capital without which the resuscita- 
tion of Russian industry will be difficult, if not practically 
impossible, would not be forthcoming if the present economic 
system were to continue." 

Now, as we know, 1921 was the time when the Bol- 
sheviks found themselves badly in need of individual 
initiative and enterprise, as well as of foreign credits 
and capital. By the Decree of March 30, they granted 
the peasant and town workers permission to barter and 
to trade, they decided to denationalize small industries 
and to offer concessions to foreign capitalists. In Au- 
gust, on the basis of these concessions, they tried to 
negotiate a loan of £10,000,000 through Mr. Nansen. 
On October 29, in a speech before a party conference, 
Mr. Lenin invited the Bolsheviks to a further "retreat." 
"State Capitalism," he said, has not succeeded. "The 
exchange of manufactured goods for the produce of 
agriculture has not materialized, in the sense of taking 
the form of simple buying and selling." "The private 
market has proved to be stronger than our author- 
ity." The next position to defend is "State regulation 
of buying and selling and of money currency." 
We know that practically, buying and selling in 
a kind of free market was never stopped. But 
formal recognition of that basic law of political 
economy first came now. Did it mean that Lenin 



RUSSIA TO-MORROW 269 

had decided to come back to "capitalist" econ- 
omy? By no means. The leading principle, as stated 
by Lenin himself in the Moscow Pravda in August, 
remained that all concessions to be made should be 
"within the limits of what the proletariat can concede 
without ceasing to be the dominating class." 

Can legal order, ordinary justice, "sanctity of con- 
tract'' and "firm guarantees of private property" be 
conceived as finding themselves within these limits? 
They are certainly within the limits of what autocracy 
could concede without ceasing to be the dominating au- 
thority. Autocracy had been securing all these things, 
which did not have anything in common with politics 
or political freedom, since at least the time of Peter the 
Great. But now they are outside the limits of a regime 
which demands the "absolute subjection of every in- 
dividual to the State." No space for the activity of 
civil law is thus left, and the demand for "legal order" 
under the Bolsheviks has become a political demand 
implicating the overthrow of the basic principle of their 
regime. Lenin can never go that length without en- 
dangering the continuation in power of the "dominat- 
ing class." 

The invitation to Genoa seems to have dealt with 
that impossibility. The only condition it puts, not 
merely for the restarting of trade, but for "official 
recognition" of the Soviets, is that the property and 
the rights of foreigners shall be respected and that the 
sanctity of their contracts shall be in some way guar- 
anteed. In the Russian view this is tantamount to the 
introduction into Russia of a regime of capitulations 
and exterritoriality for foreigners. Russia is thus to be 
treated like old Turkey or old China and to be turned 
into a colony of foreign exploitation. Such is indeed 



270 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

the scheme that was suggested by Mr. Keynes in his 
well-known book ("The Economic Consequences of the 
Peace") and taken up recently by Mr. Stinnes and, 
probably, by Mr. Lloyd George. The Russian people 
is not likely to go to that limit. It remains to be seen 
whether the Bolsheviks are ready to go. An alliance 
with foreign "capitalists" in order to preserve their 
power over Russia may be within the scope of the 
negotiating parties, but it hardly will contribute to the 
Bolsheviks' "evolution" into a decent government. 

There is one specious and well-sounding reason used 
to cover the "retreat" of the Supreme Council from the 
only sensible position, which is that of Secretary 
Hughes and Mr. Leslie Urquhart. The Supreme Coun- 
cil said : "It is the right of each country to choose for 
itself the system which it prefers." But this is just 
what the Russian people was not permitted to do, and 
will not be permitted to do as long as the "dominating 
class" keeps in power. When asked by the late Prince 
Kropotkin at the most critical moment, in September, 
1919, whether he would admit the building of a coali- 
tion cabinet with other political (namely socialistic) 
parties, Lenin replied with a deliberate: "No" The 
Soviets in Hungary, he argued, were overthrown just 
because they accepted such a government. He was 
not going to repeat the experiment. However, rumors 
went again to the same effect in the summer of 1921 
and, while in America, I was often asked whether it 
was true that the Bolsheviks had addressed themselves 
to certain political leaders with the proposal of sharing 
the power with them. The only answer I could give 
was to quote from a secret circular which was sent by 
the Central Committee of the Communist Interna- 
tional to the Bureau of the Western European Propa- 



RUSSIA TO-MORROW 271 

ganda on May 18. The circular states that "certain ir- 
responsible persons who call themselves representatives 
of the Communist International, the Russian Com- 
munist Party and the Soviet People's Commissaries' ' 
were carrying on negotiations in Paris, Berlin, Prague 
and Vienna, "regarding the possibility of a compromise 
with the aim of forming a coalition government." The 
document quoted called such negotiations "a pure pro- 
vocation" and ordered the Western Secretariat to in- 
quire about the facts and to punish the delinquents as 
dangerous conspirators, "whatever be their revolution- 
ary past or their personal authority in the party." 

However unfounded the mentioned rumors are, I 
was still asked what would have been my answer if 
such a proposal had been really made to me personally. 
The only answer possible for any Russian democrat 
would be just this: Give the Russian people the right 
really "to choose for itself the system which it prefers." 
If under the conditions of really free elections to a 
popular assembly the people say they prefer the Bol- 
sheviks, — well, all right, we will submit to the govern- 
ment of their choice. If there must then be further 
struggle, it can be carried on by parliamentary meth- 
ods. But for the Bolsheviks to concede free elections, 
the reestablishment of political freedom, together with 
the abolition of the notorious "Che-Ka" and their sys- 
tem of espionage, would mean to commit suicide. It 
would be too naive to expect it from a party which is 
still, as Mr. Brailsford rightly states, "righting for its 
life" and which, "in their tremendous adventure, en- 
tirely discarded democracy." 

No, there is no way open to the Bolsheviks except to 
fight on to the bitter end. No substantial change in 
the conditions of the national economy and, accord- 



272 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

ingly, in the state of utter exhaustion of the national 
resources can come as long as their basic method — 
which is domination by an insignificant minority — and 
their basic aim — which is the world revolution — are not 
surrendered. 

In the absence of such a possibility what are their 
own prospectives? An undertone of pessimism per- 
vades the last speeches of Lenin. In the October speech 
mentioned above he reviewed the three stages of the 
Bolshevist struggle. "When the question was about 
the power of the Soviet, the dissolution of the Con- 
stituent Assembly (i.e., end of 1917 and beginning of 
1918), the danger was political and it proved to be neg- 
ligible. When the period of civil war set in, and it was 
supported by the capitalists of the entire world (i.e., 
second part of 1918 to the end of 1920), there appeared 
a military danger, and it was much more formidable. 
But when we changed our economic policy (i.e., spring 
of 1921) the danger grew even much stronger, because 
it is formed of an enormous number of every day's 
trifling details which nobody takes care of." It is, 
Lenin might have added, a struggle against the laws of 
life expressed in the science which he made the object 
of his special study: political economy. In another 
speech, held on October 19, before a congress of the in- 
stitutions of "political education," Lenin was still more 
explicit. "The struggle will be more desperate and 
more violent than that against Kolchak and Denikin." 
To win in war has been a familiar thing for centuries, 
but this time it is the war of the understanding, of 
political preparedness. Now, "the proletariat has been 
declassed and, as a class, it has ceased to exist." It 
will grow with the new growth of capitalism, but this is 
not the basis on which a "proletarian Dower can rest." 



RUSSIA TO-MORROW 273 

Is it the Communist Party? Lenin "hopes" that at 
least 100,000 members will be removed from it and 
he will be "still more pleased" if 200,000 will be re- 
moved, as they are "red-tapeists" and "embezzlers." 
There remain the peasants, but "they can have no un- 
derstanding because they suffer from illiteracy and 
grope in the darkness. They are just like semi-savages. 
How long it will take for all the different kinds of com- 
mittees to liquidate that illiteracy, it is impossible to 
say." On the other hand, no waiting is possible. "The 
question is now whom will the peasants follow, the 
proletariat, which strives to build a socialistic society, 
or the capitalist who thinks it safer to turn around?" 
"One of the two must perish, either the republic or 
the capitalists." But as the decision rests with the 
"semi- savages" who prefer "capitalism" and do not 
see the "enemy" in it, and as "it is confirmed by the 
experience of all former revolutions," one can readily 
guess what Mr. Lenin's real conclusion is. 

It is idle to speculate just how, just when and just 
where the Bolshevist power will perish. The latest 
impressions of foreigners — and of certain Americans — 
are that the Bolshevist power is as strong as ever. 
There is the Red Army, especially those detachments of 
"Internal Guards for Special Service," whose par- 
ticular aim it is to prevent uprisings; there is that 
largely spread system of espionage which defies com- 
parison with that of the times of Tacitus, — not to speak 
of autocracy. There is also that notorious "Extraordi- 
nary Commission," the "Che-Ka," which in its shooting 
the "politically unreliable" is not even constrained by 
the "revolutionary conscience" of ordinary tribunals. 
There is that network of the Bolshevist administration 
which can carry the decisions of the Central Govern- 



274 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

ment to the outskirts of the former Empire. Even the 
"Imperial" spirit of unity and patriotism is renascent. 
Why should that seemingly strong fabric of govern- 
ment collapse, when there is no organized force to com- 
bat it either from the ouside or from the inside? 

Mr. Lenin knows better. Mr. Gorki also knows bet- 
ter, for he only recently gave vent to his "proletarian" 
panic before the coming advent of these "semi-savages" 
who will go out of their huts and will sweep the towns 
and the cities and will submerge the remaining centers 
of civilization in Russia. This state of mind of the 
powers that he has also found a peculiar reflection in 
Mr. Brailsford's severe indictment of the Russian peo- 
ple, "living in the ignorance and in the superstition of 
the Middle Ages." According to him, too, "if the 
peasants had had the will or the skill to express their 
minds," their "democratic" policy "would have meant 
the slow death of the towns and the extinction of civil- 
ization." 

This is a capital point which must be elucidated 
before we go any further. The whole question of Rus- 
sia of "to-morrow" is here implicated. If, indeed, the 
Russian people have passed through their Revolution 
only to be degraded to the level of the Middle Ages, 
how can we talk at all of democracy? In that case, of 
course, we "may mean by democracy, that certain 
groups of intellectuals, clever, well-educated and gifted 
with the power of speech, should somehow use the ma- 
chinery of elections in order to guide the State with 
their own more or less enlightened ideas." But as this 
sentimental picture, purposely drawn in pink, is ob- 
viously unrealizable, the way is paved, by the method 
of elimination, to the Reds or the Blacks, — to Bolshe- 
vism or Monarchy. They are the only regimes that 



RUSSIA TO-MORROW 275 

can rule the "semi-savages" by force, thus saving "civil- 
ization" from the invasion of those barbarians. It 
was not in vain that Mr. Lenin spoke of Monarchy as 
the only alternative to Bolshevism. However, Mr. 
Brailsford is right when he says that "the convinced 
democrat must surely mean more than that," — even in 
Russia. 

The Bolshevist — or pro-Bolshevist — argument 
queerly coincides with that of the Russian reactionaries. 
As they, naturally, do not believe in Bolshevism, and 
as any other issue is impossible for them, they think 
that if their services are refused, Russia is definitely 
lost. The Russian people are unable, according to 
them, to save themselves. The masses are down-trod- 
den and helpless. How to get the daily bread is their 
only thought. Since the hope for help from the out- 
side was lost, a sort of dull and passive submission set 
in. The government can do with these people just as 
they like for as long as they like. Moreover, as a re- 
sult of the violent struggle for life, the masses have 
become completely demoralized. Everybody takes care 
of himself, and Might goes before Right. Abject misery 
and newly-acquired riches meet in unpalliated con- 
trasts, unmitigated by any social work or relief. All 
means are deemed permissible in human strife: brib- 
ery, theft, fraud, robbery, murder. Sexual laxity has 
become familiar. The young generation growing in 
such surroundings is bound to be brought up free from 
idealism, disrespectful of law and moral discipline, but 
intensely keen and shrewd for all practical purposes. 
As the other nations are supposed to be as keen and 
intent on profiting by Russia's weakness, the result is 
expected to be that Russia will become a prey for for- 
eign exploiters who will transform her into a depend- 



276 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

ency of the civilized powers. Such a country can only 
be ruled by compulsion and it certainly deserves to 
have the government that it has. Monarchy is too 
good for them, autocracy would be better, and the Bol- 
sheviks gave proof of great understanding of realities 
when they undertook to rule Russia with exaggerated 
methods of autocratic violence. That regime is bound 
to be strong and it can be supplanted only by a similar 
regime. 

This is about the view of the situation built upon a 
complete lack of faith in the Russian people. It is, per- 
haps, interesting to mention that the same people 
who share it now were under the Tsar's old regime very 
much inclined to exaggerate and to extol the good qual- 
ities of the Russian people, namely the plain peasants, 
the "semi-savages" of the present day. Our nation- 
alists even constructed upon it an idea of Russia's 
world mission. The Russian people was described to 
be the most perfect exponent of Christian spirit and 
Christian life. It was especially praised as true to 
the old national tradition, at the expense of the Russian 
intellectuals who were said to be treacherous to their 
people and its faith. I must also add that a part of 
the Russian intellectuals, the so-called socialists-popu- 
lists ("Narodniki"), eulogized the Russian people for 
having been born "communists" (meaning the collec- 
tive possession of land), whose mission it was to give 
the world its new Bible. These opinions found a weak 
reflection also in the foreign literature, e.g., in the 
books of Mr. Stephen Graham. 

I have lived long enough to observe the rise and fall 
of these alternate opinions which I never shared. To 
me the Russian people is neither a "Christophorus" 
(Christ-bearer), nor communist, nor "semi-savage," nor 



RUSSIA TO-MORROW 277 

a "wild animal." The mistake of the present de- 
tractors is that they ignore all the past, with its long 
process of historical growth, and do not know the pres- 
ent. The study of the real Russian people, with all 
their good qualities and faults, has itself a pretty long 
history. I cannot expatiate on that subject now, but 
I think it necessary to warn against superficial obser- 
vations, with no background behind them, and against 
foregone conclusions which beg the question. People 
who avow that they do not know much about the real 
Russian people are probably nearer to the truth than 
the amateurs with their cut-and-dried schemes, mutu- 
ally exclusive. 

The Russian people is a very complex phenomenon, 
and one may find in it as many features as one needs to 
prove any view. The above-mentioned opinion, which 
I do not share, is overdrawn and one-sided, but one 
cannot say that it is entirely untrue. There is another 
side to it which it is especially important to emphasize 
in connection with that question of "Russia of to-mor- 
row." 

In the first place, it is necessary to state that the very 
fact of the widely spread fear of the appearance 
of the real people, the peasants, on the political 
stage is a most eloquent and convincing proof of 
a speedy growth of their social weight. One may 
say that just as was the case during the great French 
Revolution, the Russian peasantry is the only class 
which has directly benefited by the Revolution. What- 
ever remained of the nobility after the great act of 
1861 (emancipating the peasants from serfdom) was 
definitely destroyed by the Revolution of 1917, never 
to revive in its old form. The class of industrialists, 
comparatively young, was also swept away by the 



278 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

destruction of industry. This class will revive and 
grow ; but its social role is all in the future. The lower 
middle class, which was not numerous, has particularly 
suffered from the downfall of the towns. The class of 
workmen, also comparatively recent, is scattered and 
has distributed itself among the village, the army and 
the new officialdom. The intellectuals and men of the 
liberal professions have been in part exterminated, a 
part of them have fled away from Russia, and a part 
were forced to enlist in the Bolshevist civil service. 
They, of course, will be badly needed by the State and 
the communities at the first moment of Russia's recov- 
ery. But now they are dragging themselves through 
a miserable existence. The peasants alone are known 
to have become better off since the beginning of the 
War, to have taken the land from the squires after the 
March Revolution and to have enriched themselves 
at the expense of the town during the Bolshevist 
revolution. Their growing hatred against the "loafers" 
in the towns is also known, but it is explained by the 
fact that the town could give no more manufactured 
goods for grain, which it began to requisition from the 
peasants through the intermediary of the Bolshevist 
State machinery. This ill-feeling will certainly pass 
as soon as the normal relations of exchange are restored 
between the town and village. As things are now, the 
town is frightened, and the typical exponent of the 
proletarian townsfolk, such as Gorki is, faithfully re- 
flects that state of feeling. 

It is also mostly among the townsfolk that negative 
phenomena of demoralization . can be observed. Mr. 
Brailsford rightly brings that new wave of crime which 
swept Russia in connection with the same phenomena 
all over Europe, as produced by the state of misery 



RUSSIA TO-MORROW 279 

created by the War. The great mortality, especially 
in the towns (Chap. VII), is of course chiefly due to 
the increased state of suffering caused by the Bolshe- 
vist regime. 

The consequences of the economic ruin which began 
from the top have also hit the Russian village hard. 
We know how it has reflected itself in the state of Rus- 
sia's agriculture (Chap. VII). But, with the exception 
of the famine-stricken areas, one must not exaggerate 
the degree of destruction of the Russian village. It 
is especially here that the comparatively low level of 
economic development and low standard of life ren- 
dered Russia a real service. Two generations have 
hardly passed by since the light of civilization was 
first introduced into the Russian village through the 
newly built Zemstvos, the organs of rural self-govern- 
ment. 1 Such forms of the past as trade based on bar- 
ter, industry in its primitive form of home handwork, 
locally limited markets and fairs were still fresh in 
everybody's memory. It was comparatively easy for 
the peasant to cast aside his new needs and habits and 
to revert to old traditions, such as homespun clothes, 
filthy hamlets, thatched roofs, wooden shoes and im- 
plements, chips of wood instead of lamps or matches, 
primitive means of transport and locomotion, in short, 
to primitive habits of life. 

Russia has fallen deep ; but it has not fallen from a 
very high level. That is why it has not hurt itself so 
much in its collapse, as would be the case with a more 
advanced country. Imagine a New York skyscraper 
falling to pieces, or a Bolshevist regime playing havoc 
for a couple of days in the midst of an extremely com- 
plex social organism of modern times, and compare it 

*See my book: "Russia and its Crisis," Chicago, 1905. 



280 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

with some similar occurrence somewhere in the newly 
settled districts of Manitoba: you will realize the dif- 
ference and you will understand my assumption, that 
it is by far easier for a country like Russia to recover, 
and that it can be done in a much shorter space of 
time than would be the case with a more highly de- 
veloped social structure. 

However, it would be entirely wrong to take the 
present degraded state of the Russian village as a start- 
ing point in its development from some "semi-savage" 
stage to a state of civilization under the benevolent 
rule of the Bolsheviks. That mistake has been par- 
ticularly often repeated in the question of popular edu- 
cation. The Bolsheviks are generally credited with 
especially successful educational activities. And in- 
deed they drew almost as much attention to their 
school as to their army. The school had to "serve as 
a laboratory for those social forms which are considered 
most rational for the given cultural epoch." In plain 
speech it meant teaching communism. But the Bolshe- 
viks at once met with the resistance of the "All-Russian 
Teachers' Union," a very influential organization. They 
opposed to it a "Union of Teachers-Internationalists." 
However, it was extremely difficult to find a new teach- 
ing personnel devoted to communism. In December, 
1919, the Red newspapers of Petrograd complained 
that out of the total «of 24,839 persons who 
constituted the total personnel of the "Division 
of Education," "9,439 were former bourgeois intel- 
lectuals, 1,490 were former owners of property 
and 1,117 — former bureaucratic officials." The Red 
organ was extremely dissatisfied and sarcastically 
remarked that these bourgeoisie worked "in the sweat 
of their brow to introduce communistic education and 



RUSSIA TO-MORROW 281 

to break up in the children the ideas of respect for the 
sacred institution of private-ownership of the means 
of production which is being instilled in them by their 
backward parents and to educate these children in the 
spirit of the realization of the class aims of the pro- 
letariat." The statistical results were still more unsatis- 
factory for the Communists. Let us compare the fig- 
ures of a pre-war report (1911) and that of the Com- 
munist Minister Lunacharsky (for 1919) : 

Number of Scholars 1911 1919 

In Elementary schools 6,322,725 2,618,000 

" Secondary and special 687,631 200,000 

11 Universities 38,192 1 55,000 

Total 7,048,548 2,873,000 

Far from having opened a new era of national edu- 
cation, the Bolsheviks witnessed the destruction to a 
great extent of what had been accomplished by the two 
last Dumas. A scheme for universal education to be 
introduced in a period of 15-20 years was worked out 
by the Dumas and appropriations in the budget were 
being increased accordingly at a very speedy rate. The 
appraised great increase in the budget of the Bolsheviks 
was purely nominal. 

Appropriations In gold Per cent, of the 

Years (thousands of rubles) (millions) whole budget 

1912 170,206 ... 6.37 

1914 238,605 ... 7.21 

1916 270,775 ... 8.24 

1918 3,074,343 47.3 6.58 

1919 17.279,374 43.5 8.02 

1920 114,366,070 24.3 10.98 

1 3,778 peasants. 



282 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

The decrease in the number of schools, pupils and 
appropriations under the Bolshevist regime is evident. 
However, there is one feature in the situation which is 
particularly interesting. The peasants themselves dis- 
play a great interest in education and they try in every 
way to make up for the deficiencies of the Bolshevist 
State. It is the general opinion of all recent observers 
of Soviet Russia, that "the greed for knowledge is in- 
deed colossal" among the peasants. Of course, they 
do not care about the history of communism: they 
want their former school teachers to come back to 
them and to teach as they always did. The school 
buildings are unrepaired and there is no fuel to heat 
them. There are no textbooks, no blackboards, no 
paper, pens, pencils or ink. The teacher sometimes 
draws the characters on sand, in the autumn and spring, 
on snow in the winter. But the children overcome all 
obstacles and a great number of them pass to the sec- 
ondary schools. In Southern Russia sometimes 40 to 
60 per cent, of the pupils in the secondary schools are 
children of peasants. This is another new feature. 
Finally, I find in a personal letter the assertion that in 
every village one can find young peasants who have 
graduated from the universities. It is true that uni- 
versity teaching has especially suffered at the hands of 
the Bolsheviks, the program of studies being substan- 
tially changed, all entrance requirements being entirely 
abolished and the professorial staff being chiefly com- 
posed of communist newcomers, without sufficient 
qualifications for teaching. To compensate for these 
drawbacks, Soviet Russia has now 23 universities, in- 
stead of the former 10, and we have seen that the 
number of students has increased. The desire for edu- 
cation is especially strong among the growing genera- 



RUSSIA TO-MORROW 283 

tion of the intellectuals. The gaps in the official teach- 
ing are here often made good by personal study. The 
enthusiasm of the youth and the feeling of duty towards 
their people which inspires them reminds me of the 
best period in the history of our intellectuals. 

Some other important symptoms of a new revival 
in the masses are noted by Mr. S. Maslov, whose data 
I have quoted in a previous chapter. He emphasizes 
that the feeling of responsibility towards the State has 
also grown enormously among the people whom he 
knows from close observation. The connection be- 
tween the deranged functions of the State and the en- 
suing dislocation in all branches of social life is now 
clearly understood. The great importance of cohe- 
sion between the different regions of the State, the 
significance of railways, harbors, outlets to the world 
communications for the unity of the national organism 
has also been learned by the large masses from the ex- 
periences of the civil war and Russia's dismemberment. 
They now know that if Russia is cut from the north, 
there is no fish in the market; if the Caucasus is de- 
tached, there is no oil; if the Donetz basin is lost, 
there is no coal. These are the elements of sound na- 
tionalism which had been lacking but which they have 
been taught at the hand of events. Accordingly, na- 
tional feeling is growing, and it will certainly have a 
great influence on the state of the public opinion in 
questions of foreign policy. Owing to the failure of 
the Bolshevist experiment, the former spell of socialism 
is weakening, especially among the intellectuals (Mr. 
Maslov, a socialist himself, has left the ranks of his 
party). In all classes of the population, intellectuals 
as well as peasants, a common feature is noticed which 
Mr. Maslov designates by the expressive term "crea- 



284 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

tive pathos." Everybody wants to work, to break 
through the "senseless and criminal barriers" put up 
by the Soviet power, and to till the land, to restart 
cooperation, to print books. "Russia is alive/' Mr. 
Maslov sums up; "the people's soul has not been 
killed; there is a will to action, a healthy reaction 
against the surrounding chaos and dissolution." Mr. 
Maslov also marks the moment when the change came. 
"From October-November, 1920," he states, "the curve 
of Russia's political activity moved upwards. Just why 
it happened at that particular moment, I cannot ex- 
plain. 1 But the fact is that it did. Increased activity 
manifested itself in the growth of the peasant up- 
heavals, in the greater number of 'partisans' detach- 
ments, in the tumultuous conferences of the Soviets, 2 
in workmen's disturbances, in the movement among the 
students, in the increasing activity of the socialistic 
parties in Russia, in the growth of the illegal litera- 
ture, written and oral, in frequent discussions on new 
political groupings and in the new determination for 
building local branches of such groupings." 

How different is this picture, based on the close ob- 
servation of experienced political workers, from the 
biased constructions and deductions of the pro-Bol- 
sheviks and reactionaries! It makes the Russian demo- 
crats very hopeful as to Russia of to-morrow, and it 
palliates the gloomy forebodings of the partisans of a 
"declassed" proletariat as to the political consequences 
of the predominance of the Russian farmers, who con- 
stitute the great majority of the Russian population. 

*It coincides with the final downfall of the "White" movement 
(Gen. WrangeFs retreat). See Chap. VI. 

2 One can note the increasing numbers of opposition delegates 
elected to the Soviet in spite of the Bolshevist pressure on the elec- 
tions. 



RUSSIA TO-MORROW 285 

Of course, political life in a democratic Russia of 
farmers will be different from what it was before. But 
we know that real political life was just beginning be- 
fore the Revolution (see Chap. I). As a result of the 
pressure of autocracy on public opinion all the political 
parties were either too artificially built and serving a 
fictitious representation, or too doctrinaire and ab- 
stract, representing political ideas rather than social 
interests. Under the Revolution the former group of 
parties, the reactionary and conservative, has entirely 
disappeared, while the latter, the liberal and socialistic, 
has been gradually adapting itself to real political life. 
"Even these parties have to be thoroughly reconstructed 
in order to be able to serve the democratic Russia of to- 
morrow. It is very characteristic that all the political 
groups now fighting the Bolsheviks inside Russia have 
lost the rigid delineations of their programs and have 
melted together in a common struggle which is carried 
on under extraordinarily difficult conditions. The 
official designation of that matter-of-fact coalition of 
Russian parties (Mensheviks, Social-Revolutionaries, 
Populists, Cadets) is 'non-party.' It is the 'non- 
party' element which fights out the elections to the 
Soviets and succeeds in getting into them a few repre- 
sentatives of their own in spite of all the anti-parlia- 
mentary methods of the 'dominating class' (see Chap. 
III). However, there are elements which are natur- 
ally excluded from that 'non-party' coalition, because 
they are simply non-existent in Russia. There are no 
monarchists in their midst. There are no opponents to 
democracy, no partisans of the formerly privileged so- 
cial groups. Democracy is the present day reality in 
Russia: democracy as opposed to Bolshevism." 

If the picture thus drawn is true — as I think it is, 



286 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

on the authority of ample evidence given in papers, in 
private letters and through personal intercourse — some 
conclusions may be drawn concerning the Russia of to- 
morrow. 

We have seen that outside of Russia a reactionary 
and monarchist agitation is rife among the members of 
the old privileged class, the old type bureaucrats and 
the remainders of the evacuated army. It is stated 
that up to 15,000 former officers have been enlisted by 
the monarchist organizations, in order to start on a 
military raid at some opportune moment, with the aim 
of restoring monarchy. However, the chance of suc- 
cess is so small that, to my knowledge, no pretender 
has been found as yet who would consent to play the 
part of Charles Hapsburg. It would be difficult to 
assert that the very idea of monarchy has completely 
disappeared from Russia, But if that idea ever was 
popular in Russia, it was in the shape of a democratic 
monarchy, of a peasant Tsar like Pugachov, the famous 
Cossack impostor of the time of Catherine II, the 
peasant duplicate of her murdered husband, Peter III, 
who surrounded himself with peasant dignitaries and 
"generals." Is such a Russian Napoleon likely to ap- 
pear in the present crisis? Many peasant Nicholases II 
have already appeared, but they had not a chance to 
succeed. Not only is the Russian peasant very differ- 
ent from what he was in the XVIII Century, but mon- 
archy has also lost all its historical prestige. The peas- 
ant cannot forget that the Russian monarch was always 
in close alliance with the Russian squire. And the 
Russian farmer will never again tolerate the squire. 
We know that the chief reason for the failure of the 
"White" movement was that the "White" generals 
came accompanied by the old landlords. Neither can 



RUSSIA TO-MORROW 287 

the monarch detach himself from his secular ally, the 
landlord, because he is the only one that wants to 
bring the monarch back. This is why the monarchist 
movement among the noble emigres has no chance to 
succeed, unless it is supported — in addition to the Ger- 
man money which it gets now (Chap. VI) — by a 
strong German army. Ludendorffs and Stinneses may 
dream of such an operation, but it hardly can count on 
any support elsewhere in Europe, and if it ever ma- 
terializes it can only count on a momentary and passing 
success. 

If we dismiss that possibility of Russia's becoming 
again a monarchy, there remains another issue much 
spoken about by the partisans of the Bolsheviks, who 
wish to prove the wisdom of letting them continue in 
power. Their reasoning, made especially popular by 
Mr. H. G. Wells, who claims to know Russia as he 
knows everything, is as follows: If the Bolsheviks go, 
what is going to happen? Who will take their place? 
There may be anarchy, which is still worse. Russia 
will have, gotten rid of the only strong government 
which she can have now, and she will plunge into com- 
plete chaos. The Bolshevist Government is at least a 
government and it has shown itself to be possessed of 
great will power and a remarkable capacity for gov- 
erning. . . . This cannot be said of the other pro- 
gressive parties, which lost their power to the Bolshe- 
viks through sentimentalism and lack of practical ex- 
perience. As the Bolsheviks now promise to renounce 
their pernicious principles and to evolve, would it not 
be better to let them stay and give them a chance to 
become a "decent" government? 

A part of these suggestions has already been an- 
swered. There is no chance of the Bolsheviks a evolv- 



288 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

ing," and their promises of economic concessions are 
conditioned — and limited — on and by the preservation 
of their political power. Indeed, their "will to power" 
is so great that it defies the will of the whole popula- 
tion for them to go, and that will can only be realized 
by practicing these very methods which make their 
further stay impossible. There is a limit to everything, 
even to fear. All reports concur in the statement that 
the people are no longer cowed by the Red Terror and 
that the fear of the Che-Ka has been blunted since 
that political revival the beginnings of which are de- 
scribed above, in a quotation from Mr. S. Maslov. It 
is true that most of the parties that came into power 
under the March Revolution of 1917 were unable to 
keep in power, and that this was partly due to their 
inexperience. But we saw them learn in the process, 
and it was chiefly the unpreparedness of the popula- 
tion which prevented them from applying their new 
knowledge and caused the masses to prefer the Bolshe- 
vist demagogy to real democratic strivings. It remains 
to be proved that the lesson was learned both by the 
progressive parties and by the population. This can 
only be proved by events, but in the meanwhile I can 
refer to the new state of mind among the Russian 
masses, which is characterized above. Is it true that 
there is nobody left in Russia to prevent anarchy since 
all the non-Bolshevist intellectuals have been exter- 
minated or have fled for their lives? No, it is not true. 
It is not true that underneath the Bolshevist surface 
of 600,000 or 300,000 or probably less of the Communist 
Party there is nothing but an amorphous mass of uned- 
ucated and unconscious plain people, that will be 
broken up and strewn about like atoms after the or- 
ganizing upper layer is removed. 



RUSSIA TO-MORROW 289 

On the contrary, the elements of cohesion are there 
and many, and they are ready to coagulate and to 
crystallize at any moment. To illustrate that tendency, 
I shall quote a fact which is universally known. I mean 
the story of the Moscow non-Communist Famine Com- 
mittee, which is already known to you (Chap. VIII). 
When the Bolsheviks first learned how unexpectedly 
great was the Russian disaster and how utterly helpless 
they were to relieve it by their own means, they came 
to the idea of addressing themselves just to these non- 
Communist intellectual elements which are supposed 
by some people to be non-existent. The Bolsheviks 
wished to use the authority of these non-Bolsheviks 
abroad to influence foreign public opinion, and to profit 
by their connections in the country, in order to organize 
provincial branches. This appeal to the non-Commun- 
ist elements — which, however, was far from generally 
accepted or approved in their midst — elicited such a 
reverberation both outside and inside Russia, that the 
Bolsheviks became frightened. Branches of the Mos- 
cow Committee in the provinces here and there began 
to be considered by the population as new organs of 
administration, intended to take the place of the Bol- 
shevist ones. There were cases {e.g., in the Province 
of Ryazan) where the Bolshevist commissars proposed 
voluntarily to surrender their powers. The Bolsheviks 
decided to cut short and to put a speedy end to the ex- 
periment which had proved so dangerous. In the mean- 
while they saw that they could negotiate with the outer 
world without intermediaries. And they not only dis- 
solved the Moscow Committee under the futile pretext 
that its members had misused their power, but they 
even tried to convict them of political crime. 

No, there will neither be anarchy nor monarchy in 



290 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

Russia of to-morrow. There will be democracy. It 
will be a peasant democracy. Under an electoral law 
based on the principle of universal suffrage — and no 
other kind of suffrage is possible in democratic Russia 
— the majority of the deputies in any really popular 
assembly will belong to the peasant class. From the 
old regime the peasants have learned to be extremely 
suspicious of any member of another class representing 
their interests. I have in mind an interesting descrip- 
tion of the elections at a provincial peasant conference 
in Samara, in May, 1917. It was very typical of all 
the peasant elections. There were in their midst many 
school-teachers who had taken part in the agrarian 
movement of 1905-6 and had been punished by im- 
prisonment. They were all Social-Revolutionaries, a 
party particularly favored among the peasants and 
which received the majority of votes to the Constituent 
Assembly at the end of 1917. But preference was given 
to a peasant, also a member of that party, who de- 
clared: "Do not rely on anybody, either officials, or 
priests, or white-collar men. They are wolves in 
sheep's skins, and the popular wave will sweep them 
away. You will be able to tolerate them only then 
when all these white shirts will have become dirty from 
hard work." 

You will now understand why, wherever popular elec- 
tions on the basis of universal suffrage were tried (like 
in Siberia, see Chap. X), the majority of deputies 
elected were peasants. They are just class, not party, 
and their choice of the party preferred will necessarily 
vary. It does not mean, however, that they will not 
tolerate any intellectuals at their side and that the fate 
of the Russian peasant republic will be that of Bui- 



RUSSIA TO-MORROW 291 

garia under a Stambuliisky. It only means that they 
will not swear by the words of the intellectual* and will 
not permit the intellectuals to dictate to them. There 
are groups of Russian intellectuals who are even now 
known to the peasants for their active and useful work 
among them. Since 1861 they learned to know agrono- 
mists, physicians, teachers and especially coopera- 
tive workers, who all belong to the Russian intellect- 
uals and share in their creed. They confide compara- 
tively less in their priests whom they class, as • we have 
just seen, with the government officials. But even here 
there are exceptions, and every Russian recollects the 
brilliant types of democratic priests who were sent to 
the first Duma by the peasants. It is very difficult to 
say to what an extent religious feeling in the villages 
has deepened as a result of the Bolshevist propaganda 
and persecution against the Church. At any rate noth- 
ing like secret mass services conducted in the woods, 
like those of the French Thermidor, have taken place 
in Russia, and in general the influence of the Orthodox 
clergy on the popular masses has been far from equal 
to that of the Catholics. The religious development of 
the Russian people, especially in the South, has taken 
to the line of non-conformity, but data are lacking to 
show how much that religious movement has changed 
or progressedtsince the Revolution. 

Coming back to our subject of elections, I must point 
out that there is at least one group of Russian intel- 
lectuals who actually enjoy the confidence of the 
masses. I mean the Cooperators. For the time being, 
as we know (Chap. XII), free cooperation has been 
killed by the Bolsheviks who made participation in it 
compulsory for every Russian citizen and transformed 



292 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

it into a state institution. But the personnel of the 
former cooperative societies have mostly remained at 
their posts, and they will probably be the first connect- 
ing link between the people and the party leaders. 
The Cooperators tried to use their sobering influence on 
the extremism of the socialist parties as early as the 
middle of 1917, when the Provisional Government was 
nearing its end. Since that time they have declared 
themselves "non-party." This position may serve as 
a medium for transforming the doctrinaire socialism of 
yesterday into some acceptable political program of to- 
morrow. Private ownership of peasant land is conditio 
sine qua non of such a program. It will be much easier 
for the "Cadets" to adapt themselves to the new situa- 
tion as their agrarian program was already working that 
way. Unfortunately, the use that the "White" govern- 
ments made of that program has very much contrib- 
uted to discrediting it. A reconstruction of the Party 
was also necessary to get rid of its opportunist ele- 
ments, which evolved to the right in 1918-1920, and 
to give it its initial democratic character. 

Under new conditions of work among the peas- 
ant masses there is always the danger present that 
demagogy will be substituted for democracy. More 
than one "peasant" party will surely make its ap- 
pearance, and some adventurous leaders may over- 
bid the others and probably win. Some others, who 
are accustomed to follow the track of the old in- 
tellectual parties, reminding one of American "mug- 
wumps," may grow disgusted and retreat from the 
game. All that is quite likely to happen, and the 
only remedy is a free play of democratic institutions. To 
try to forestall eventual mistakes with new plots and 
coups d'etat will not only be undemocratic, but with 



RUSSIA TO-MORROW 293 

the masses awakened to political consciousness it will 
simply prove impossible. 

There is one more feature which will characterize 
Russia of to-morrow. I mean a free agreement among 
the nationalities formerly incorporated into that huge 
mass of an Empire of Eastern style, a "colossus on feet 
of clay." I have mentioned the solution of the problem 
which the Russian democratic parties consider as the 
only possible, namely federation (Chap. IV). I have 
also touched upon the generally peaceful disposition of 
the Russian masses who are hostile to any aggression, 
offensive wars and alliances. Under the lessons of in- 
tervention and the Allied policy of contradictions and 
selfishness toward Russia (Chap. X), the Russian peas- 
ants will probably, and especially at the beginning, be 
inclined to follow the policy of entrenchment. As I 
have already mentioned, the national feeling is grow- 
ing among the masses, together with a sense of unity 
and interdependence of the different parts of the for- 
mer Empire. I am sure that they will be satisfied with 
much less than the present Bolshevist policy of re- 
stored and increased centralization. It is very difficult 
to say just where the line will be drawn between federal 
and state competency. But there hardly can be a 
doubt but that these questions and probable contests 
will be settled peacefully. Plain necessity points to the 
solution of these questions by free consent of popular 
assemblies as the only means for meeting the problem. 

The federative structure of future Russia, the United 
States of Russia, will thus be one more feature in com- 
mon between our two nations. In the course of my 
discussion, we have found that there are many features 
in common between America and Russia. (See espe- 
cially Chapters X and XL) The large space they 



294 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

occupy on their respective continents^ 'their unex- 
hausted natural resources, their expanding populations 
that have passed through a recent process of settlement, 
their young or rejuvenated psychology, a certain self- 
sufficiency in isolation, simplicity and unconventional- 
ly of habits and a peaceful disposition of mind, a kind 
of self-respect welded with good-will towards other na- 
tions, a broad-minded spirit open to new developments, 
■ — all of this is so familiar to every Russian and Ameri- 
can that we almost understand each other before we 
study one another. 

I am sure that the coming developments in our Rus- 
sia of to-morrow will not belie the expectations which 
our great Revolution aroused in this country. I am 
not unmindful of the appreciation of the meaning of 
that Revolution which lies at the bottom of the Ameri- 
can policy toward Russia, the only policy that is sound 
and really friendly. I recollect Mr. Root's various ex- 
pressions of that basic truth in connection with his mis- 
sion to Revolutionary Russia. "We believe in the com- 
petence of the power of democracy," Mr. Root said at 
the reception of his mission by the Provisional Govern- 
ment ; "in our heart of hearts abides faith in the coming 
of a better world" of freedom and justice. And on his 
coming back from Russia, at the moment when its 
darkest hour was coming, Mr. Root thus expressed the 
view of the great American democracy : "We found no 
organic or incurable malady in the Russian democracy. 
Democracies are always in trouble, and we have seen 
days just as dark in the progress of our own. We must 
remember that a people in whom all constructive effort 
had been suppressed for so long, cannot immediately 
develop a genius for quick action. The first stage is 
necessarily one of debate. The solid, admirable traits 



RUSSIA TO-MORROW 295 

in the Russian character will pull the nation through 
the present crisis." 

I do not undertake to prophesy when the end of the 
crisis will come or in what way. But I know that the 
end is near. When foreign observers of the present 
Russia tell me that nothing can happen and that the 
present regime is stable because there is no force there 
to overthrow it, their evidence does not make me less 
hopeful. I can only tell a story. On the eve of the 
March Revolution, in February, 1917, I sat at the side 
of Lord Milner who had been sent to Russia in order 
to learn whether it was true that the Russian Revolu- 
tion was really approaching. I knew it was — and every- 
body knew it in Russia, We did not know, as we do not 
know now, just how and where and when it was going 
to happen. But we knew it was going to happen. My 
friends put me at Lord Mimer's side on purpose. I 
had to tell him, and I told him that the storm was ap- 
proaching, that if at the last hour the dynasty would 
not consent to compromise its fall was inevitable and 
that our Allies were the only ones whose voice might 
probably be heard. Much later I was told that on his 
coming back to England Lord Milner reported in an 
opposite sense. According to him, the dynasty was as 
strongly rooted in the love of the Russian people as it 
ever had been, no danger for peace and order in Rus- 
sia was forthcoming and everything was all right. A 
few weeks later the dynasty was overthrown : the Revo- 
lution had come. I recently read almost the same asser- 
tions in Governor Goodrich's article in the New York 
Times. Governor Goodrich is an excellent observer and 
I appreciate very much what he has already done for 
Russia. But I happen to be a Russian. I know the 
psychology of our people. And I say to all who want 



296 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

to hear: Russia is ripe for a democratic change. The 
change will come. It will come soon. What will 
emerge from it will be — not the ancient regime, not 
anarchy, but a great democratic Russia of to-morrow. 



CHAPTER X. 

RUSSIA— SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON. 

Among the many important results of the World 
War, perhaps one of the most important — and, prob- 
ably, the least expected — is a proportional diminution 
in the international weight of Europe as compared with 
other parts of the civilized world. The center of the 
world politics is shifting from the leading powers of the 
Old World to the West and to the East: to America, 
to the British Dominions, to Asia. A new period in 
the life of humanity seems thus to open. 

The great change just mentioned has been recently 
emphasized by the succession of the two international 
gatherings in Paris and in Washington. On the oldest 
site of our old Europe the peace conference of 1919 
changed into a "conference of victors," to use President 
Harding's exact expression. Questions touching the 
whole of humanity seemed to be somehow out of place 
in Paris. Their place was inevitably taken by provi- 
sions to perpetuate the new "balance" created by vic- 
tory, by lengthy disputes over every inch of territory 
on the newly-built frontiers, disputes centuries old and 
overburdened with painful recollections of the remote 
past. Temporary adjustments, necessary and useful, 
obscured the main issues of the world peace. America 
did not seem to feel quite comfortable in the straits of 
the Parisian disputes. Paris seems to have found itself 
in a similar situation in Washington. 

297 



298 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

In America it is not Albania, or Silesia, or Teschen, or 
Klagenfurt, or Hungarian Burgenland, that is being dis- 
cussed. The questions raised are as large as America's 
boundless plains or the surface of the Pacific. There 
is only one event of the same year, 1921, which can be 
compared with the Washington Conference in its world 
significance: the British Imperial Conference of Au- 
gust. 

Russia was absent both in Paris and Washington, as 
there is no government legally entitled to represent the 
Russian people. But the Paris Conference began with 
the declaration that there can be no peace in the 
world, if there is no peace in Russia. Unfortunately, 
the only means found in Paris for bringing peace to 
Russia was the inefficacious and inadequate Prinkipo 
proposal. Accordingly, the only treaty concluded with 
Russia was the British Trade Agreement of March, 
1921. The Washington Conference was also preceded 
by a declaration on Russia. But it was a tentative 
enunciation of a new principle in international politics, 
the principle of "moral trusteeship." It was not 
America's fault if it did not materialize. 

We, Russians, have nothing to lose from the shifting 
of the international politics to larger regions of the 
world. Russia herself is a large place in the world: 
quite one-sixth of the world's earth surface. If be- 
tween Alaska and New York the difference of time is 
about five hours, from Petrograd to Bering Strait the 
distance is twice as much, i.e., ten hours. The popula- 
tion of Russia, even in its present dismembered state, 
is about 130 millions. We are Europeans, but we are 
also Asiatic. Some foreign scientists and some Russian 
patriots call us "Eurasians." We are thus of both con- 
tinents. Our absence is equally felt in both hemi- 



RUSSIA— SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON 299 

spheres, and we are equally needed for reestablishing 
the equilibrium in Europe and in Asia: in Europe to* 
equipoise France in her contest with imperialistic Ger- 
many; in Asia to equipoise the United States in its 
developing contest with Japanese imperialism. This 
is, in a nutshell, the position of Russia in the world. 
Russia is very sick just now. But Russia will recover. 
She will recover soon. And no international decision 
affecting her interests can be taken in her absence with- 
out endangering the future world peace. 

Russia is legally absent from international gather- 
ings. But she is morally present: at least, she ought 
to be. And if it is true that there can be no peace in 
th/^ world without peace in Russia, the question natur- 
ally presents itself: what can Russia contribute to the 
peace of the world? 

Many foreign observers have called the Russian peo- 
ple "the most peaceful nation in the world/' And, in- 
deed, peace is one of the greatest requirements and 
will be one of the greatest acquisitions of the rising de- 
mocracy in Russia. Russia is not only temporarily 
peaceful because she is utterly exhausted and because 
she needs a long rest to recover, Russia is naturally 
peaceful because this is the normal state of mind of 
her people. Probably it is due to its natural surround- 
ings, — just a Middle- American — as is the case with 
this country. A Russian of Middle Russia, if left to 
himself, would not show much interest in active for- 
eign politics, in wars or alliances. Leo Tolstoy, the 
great connoisseur of the Russian soul, tells us an amus- 
ing story. Monsieur Deroulede, the well-known French 
patriot and nationalist, came to see him at his country 
home and asked Tolstoy to make him acquainted with 
some Russian peasants. Tolstoy went with Mr. De- 



300 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

roulede to the fields and they met a peasant. Tolstoy 
took pains to explain to the Russian moujik who Mr. 
Deroulede was, and his visitor in his turn tried to prove 
to the peasant just why it was so exceedingly important 
to take back Alsace-Lorraine from Germany and why 
Russia had to help France. The peasant listened at- 
tentively, and then he said : "There is land enough for 
everybody in the wide world. Why should we quar- 
rel?" Of course, the peasant was not quite up to date 
in his ideas on foreign politics, — and now he has to pay 
for it. But this is how he actually felt. 

Contrary to the assertions of Russia's enemies and 
her own extremists, the Russian people were never "im- 
perialistic." Like so many people in America,, Russia 
was in happy possession of that privilege longed-for by 
many : she could stay quietly at home because she felt 
self-sufficient. What was it that forced Germany to 
become imperialistic and aggressive? What is now the 
cause of Japan's growing desire for expansion? The 
first cause is over-population, which makes it necessary 
to emigrate and to colonize. The second cause is over- 
production, which compels the race for new markets 
and for such colonies as can supply needed raw ma- 
terials. The result is — competition ; competition spells 
armaments and naval programs, and armaments mean 
increased taxation. This is — imperialism. Now, no- 
body could charge Russia with over-production and 
over-population. Russia never possessed colonies, and, 
accordingly, never had any colonial policy. Russia is 
one great continuous continental block, covering a 
great part of two continents. Raw materials can be 
found at home in abundance. Their supply is secured 
for centuries by unexhausted — and partly unexplored 
— richness of soil and mineral wealth. The internal 



RUSSIA— SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON 301 

market is so large, and so capable of extension, that it 
never could be satiated with products of national in- 
dustry alone. Foreign capital is necessary and desir- 
able, under one single condition — that it does not treat 
Russia as a colony, a "Wirtschaftsgebiet." I must add 
that the Germans tried to do that, and they enforced 
on Russia the unfavorable commercial treaties of 1894 
and 1904. Even now they may be the first to come to 
regenerated Russia, owing to their better knowledge of 
Russia's resources, better conditions of credit, a ready 
network of commercial agents, etc. So much the more 
do we need American capital to come to our rescue, and 
we want you to learn to know Russia as Germany 
knows it. 

You see now that Russia has nothing to do with that 
kind of imperialism which brings about armaments and 
wars — and also systems of alliances and "balances of 
power." An international system under which there 
would be no new distribution of nations between two 
competing camps, would be the most desirable to Rus- 
sia. You may object that Russian politics had been 
aggressive in the past. That is also not quite exact. 
The Russian Tsars very rarely waged wars for purely 
national interests and mostly remained passive in 
choosing or changing their systems of alliances. With 
the exception of the reign of Peter the Great and Cath- 
erine II, most of the Russian wars were fought for 
other people's interests. Peter's heiresses made Russia 
play the part of a European condottiere. Under Alex- 
ander I and Nicholas I Russia defended the idea of 
World Legitimism and World Christian Brotherhood: 
it was then understood as expressed in a monarchical 
League of Nations. Whatever its reactionary applica- 
tions, the idea was intended to serve international 



302 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

order and peace. Alexander II fought for the liberation 
of the Balkan Slavs, and this was also the formal rea- 
son for Russia's participation in the recent World War, 
where Russia's interests were the least important. The 
late German chancellor, von Bethmann-Hollweg, tried 
to prove that the responsibility for this last war rests 
with the Russian Minister Sazonov, because he wished 
to annex Constantinople. Bethmann-Hollweg must 
have known that Russia's claim for the possession of 
the Straits was posterior to the beginning of war, 
and that this claim was chiefly provoked by the German 
scheme of a Berlin-Bagdad route through the subdued 
Middle Europe. It stands and falls with that compet- 
ing scheme. As there is no more German danger for the 
Straits, we are now again the best of friends with Tur- 
key. We are also likely to become again the best of 
friends with China, in spite of certain imperialistic 
exceptions from our generally peaceful politics there 
to which I shall refer. 

To state it once more, the international position of 
Russia does not necessarily commit her to any special 
alliance. Russia would fain substitute any kind of So- 
ciety of Nations for the existing systems of world equi- 
librium which force her to undesirable activities. We 
fully understand America's cautious attitude towards 
the "Covenant" of the League of Nations. We might 
have been obliged to make some similar reservations, if 
we had had to consider the same question. But, Cove- 
nant or no Covenant, this way or another, some legal 
way must be found for a stable international organiza- 
tion of peace. Mr. Hughes kindly reminded the Wash- 
ington Conference in his famous introductory speech 
that Russia was the first to urge disarmament and 
peaceful settlement of international disputes, in her 



RUSSIA— SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON 303 

proposal to convoke the first Hague Conference in 
1899. We also greatly appreciate the part that America 
played in promoting that great .scheme at the Paris 
Conference. Perhaps it was necessary to recede, in 
order the better to advance. That is why, when a new 
attempt in the same line was made in Washington with 
the obvious aim of improving upon the last one, we, 
Russians, enthusiastically greeted it, and we felt in 
complete agreement with the aim of the Government 
of this country. 

But we have, moreover, a special reason for being 
grateful to American statesmanship. We think that 
America's special policy towards Russia has been 
a sound policy which has tended very much to deepen 
the moral ties that unite both democracies. In a pre- 
vious chapter (see Chapter IV) I pointed out that it 
has become a tradition of American diplomacy to de- 
fend Russia's unity from all attempts at dismembering 
and weakening Russia. This view is a logical deduc- 
tion from the fundamental conception as to the sover- 
eign rights of the Russian people. It was also to the 
Russian people that the United States addressed itself, 
over the heads of changing and temporary governments, 
local and all-Russiah. 

Let me remind you of some of these declarations, in 
chronological order. As early as February 7, 1920, the 
United States declared that it did not recognize the 
decision of the Supreme Council, regarding the inde- 
pendence of Georgia and Azerbaidjan. President Wil- 
son's note of March 24, 1920, categorically declared that 
"the question of a government for Constantinople 
should remain open until Russia is able to participate 
in its discussion" and that "no plan concerning the 



304 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

future of Constantinople which did not take in con- 
sideration the interests of Russia, should be successful." 
On July 28, 1920, the United States addressed a Note to 
Japan which is particularly important in connection 
with to-day's problems. The United States objected 
to the occupation of the Russian part of Sakhalin, the 
continued occupation of Vladivostok and of other Si- 
berian territories by the Japanese troops. 1 Then fol- 
lowed, on August 10, that splendid and admirably 
worded Note of Secretary of State Colby, answering 
Italy's demand for a statement of America's views as 
to the Russian advance into Poland. "The United 
States," Mr. Colby said, "is confident that restored, 
free and united Russia will again take a leading place 
in the world, joining with the other free nations in 
upholding peace and orderly justice." We thankfully 
endorse this judgment. 

It is especially important to emphasize that this was 
not at all a party policy. The republican administra- 
tion has developed the same principles of Russian pol- 
icy as were formulated by its democratic predecessors. 
When the "Far Eastern Republic of Chita" (Bolshe- 
vist) asked to be allowed to send delegates to Washing- 
ton, the American legation at Pekin transmitted on 
September 19, 1921, the following answer: 

"In the absence of a single recognized Russian Gov- 
ernment the protection of the legitimate Russian inter- 
ests must devolve as a moral trusteeship upon the 
whole conference. It is regrettable that the confer- 
ence, for reasons quite beyond the control of the par- 
ticipating powers, is to be deprived of the advantage of 
Russian cooperation in its deliberations, but it is not 

1 See below, the note of May 31, 1921, confirming that mentioned in 
the text. 



RUSSIA— SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON 305 

to be conceived that the conference will take decisions 
prejudicial to legitimate Russian interests or which 
would in any manner violate Russian rights. It is the 
hope and expectation of the government of the United 
States that the conference will establish general prin- 
ciples of international action which will deserve and 
have the support of the people of eastern Siberia and 
of all Russia by reason of their justice and efficacy in 
the settlement of outstanding difficulties." 

The assurances thus given from such a high place 
were more than sufficient for us to feel certain that 
legitimate Russian interests would not be neglected or 
interfered with, in such decisions or international action 
as the present conference was likely to take. But what 
are the "legitimate interests" of Russia? What are 
especially the legitimate interests "of the people of 
eastern Siberia"? The question, once raised, deserves 
most serious consideration as the fate of the World 
peace may hang on its solution. 

It is an open secret that legitimate interests of Rus- 
sia in Siberia can only be interfered with by the lead- 
ing power of the Far East: by Japan. Japan, after 
Germany, is now the storm center and the weather- 
glass of the World. We must look to Japan for a 
solution. 

What does Japan want in Siberia? Not to seem 
biased, let me quote a Japanese answer. It is that of 
Mr. Yoshi S. Kuno, an assistant Professor of the 
Oriental Department of the University of California. 
The author "requests the reader to bear in mind that 
the material contained" in his book ("What Japan 
Wants") does not reflect his "personal ideas and poli- 
cies," but, "the state of public opinion in Japan." We 
shall see that, moreover, it reflects the present policy of 



306 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

the Japanese Government, which works in agreement 
with the public opinion. 

"If America is the white man's land/' Mr. Kuno 
says, "Japan would inquire whether Siberia is not the 
yellow man's land. Though Siberia to-day constitutes 
a part of the Russian Empire, yet in order to decide 
whether Siberia is politically a component part of 
Russia, one must turn to history." Russia "finally 
succeeded in bringing the whole of this great barren 
waste peopled by Asiatic tribes under her control. She 
even occupied Sakhalin. . . . With the downfall of 
the Russian Empire . . . Japan reoccupied the whole 
of Sakhalin Island and has assumed military control 
both of Vladivostok and an immense region round 
about. Now that the doors of all Anglo-Saxon nations 
are closed against her emigrants and she must seek 
some other outlet for her population, it is but natural 
that Japan should raise the question whether Siberia 
may not be the land of the yellow man." 

We cannot but feel thankful to the author for his 
exceptional sincerity. Mr. Kuno is equally sincere and 
outspoken in disclosing for us the underlying motives 
of the Japanese aspirations. They can be summed up 
as follows: 

1. "Japan wants to make of Vladivostok an open port 
similar to Hongkong. Then, in the course of time, Vladi- 
vostok would become a port through which Japan could 
establish the shortest possible trade route to Europe. Japan 
feels that the right to establish such a trade route is the 
smallest reward that she could possibly ask for her financial 
and military efforts." 

2. "In order to avoid closer proximity (with Bolshevism) , 
Japan wants some independent State established between 
herself and Bolshevist Russia. This explains why Japan 
wants all nations to recognize the Far East Republic at 



RUSSIA— SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON 307 

Chita in Siberia. She has already sent her representatives 
to the Chita Government and has entered into negotiations 
with it regarding numerous concessions in Siberia, along the 
lines of mining, fishing and industry." 

3. "Of course, Japan also wants elbow room in Siberia 
for her surplus population. However, the sending of emi- 
grants ... is not a pressing question with the Govern- 
ment just now. ... A more vital question is where she will 
be able to obtain a constant supply of raw materials for her 
rapidly growing industries. . . . China is, of course, an 
inexhaustible mine, but at the same time this mine is being 
worked by all nations and even China itself, with her mil- 
lions of laborers, is beginning to manufacture on an unpre- 
cedented scale. Siberia, on the other hand, is both thinly 
populated and practically unexploited. Moreover, this vast 
country lies just across the Sea of Japan and from its geo- 
graphical propinquity would seem to be the natural source 
of raw material." 

4. The next point is especially important as we shall see 
later on. "Japan wants to make of the Sea of Japan a Japa- 
nese inland sea, just as the ancient Romans made a Roman 
sea of the Mediterranean in the time of the Roman Empire. 
From a Japanese standpoint, such an undertaking is a 
natural one. The Sea of Japan is closed on the south by a 
very narrow channel known as the Straits of Korea, which is 
Japanese water to-day. On the north, there is but a narrow 
strip of water between the mainland and Sakhalin Island. 
This may be crossed in small boats. To the east lies the 
chain of Japanese islands and to the west stretch the coasts 
of Korea and Siberia. Through this sea Japan might ob- 
tain two approaches to Europe, one through the Korean 
port of Fusan, and the other through Vladivostok. Ex- 
pansion into Siberia would, therefore, be more natural and 
more profitable than the sending of emigrants across the 
Pacific to distant lands. In this way also Japan would be 
spared the embarrassment of coming into unpleasant con- 
flict with Occidental nations." 

The inference is quite obvious. Preserve your Mon- 
roe Doctrine for yourself, but let us (the Japanese) 



308 • RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

have our own Monroe Doctrine for the Far East. If 
not, here is the perspective. I quote again from that 
obliging gentleman's book: 

5. "Although war between Japan and the United States, 
according to the present outlook, seems well-nigh impossible, 
still none can say with assurance that permanent peace 
can long be maintained between the two nations. However, 
if war should come, the cause thereof will not be the Japa- 
nese question in the United States, but rather with regard 
to some situation in the Orient itself. Japan might take 
up arms should the United States adopt some policy that 
would stand in the way of Japan in obtaining raw materials 
from China or Siberia. Interference of this sort would 
threaten not only the sources of the national prosperity of 
Japan, but even the very existence." 

This is also quite clear. This is just how the Ger- 
mans defended their right to a "place in the sun," a 
new "Machtpolitik." But Mr. Kuno forgets to repro- 
duce one more argument for taking possession of the 
Sea of Japan, which is, probably, more obvious to mili- 
tary strategists than to learned scholars. It is this. 
Just in the event of an "unpleasant conflict" with the 
United States, for whatever reason it be, Japan does 
not want the United States to find its ally in Russia. 
That is why even before the necessity of emigration is 
keenly felt by the Japanese nation, i.e., before a natu- 
ral pretext presents itself, Japan wants her "elbow 
room" in Siberia and wishes to bottle up the Sea of 
Japan. Her aim is obviously not so much economic as 
military. She wants to keep Russia away from the Sea 
altogether, in order to have her rear secured. That is 
also why the only place in Asia and on the Sea, which 
is actually a "white man's land," must be turned into a 
"yellow man's land." 



RUSSIA— SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON 309 

You will excuse my rather lengthy quotations from 
Mr. Kuno's book. This is practically the shortest way 
to make known Japan's real attitude in the Far East- 
ern question and thus to introduce us to a discussion 
of Japanese acts and arguments. Acts often precede 
arguments in Japan. 

Let us first take up that question of the "white" or 
"yellow" man's land in Siberia. One might with equal 
reason call America the "red man's land." Siberia is, 
indeed, the only girdle of the white man's settlement in 
Asia which brings the white race to the Pacific. But is 
it a product of sheer conquest? Is the white race in 
the minority in Siberia? Is the white settlement as 
recent as the last period of the world colonial policy? 

Such is by no means the case. Siberia is closely 
welded to European Russia by a secular process of set- 
tlement. That process is contemporaneous with the 
settlement of America. It began at the end of the XVI 
Century, and in the XVII Century the main outlines 
of colonization were firmly laid down. The process 
was slow and steady. It was a continuous stream of 
Russian settlers which found Siberia, indeed, "a great 
waste," as Mr. Kuno puts it, and its aboriginal popula- 
tion as scarce and scattered as behooved the tribes of 
hunters and nomads. The Russian settler brought to 
Siberia his habits of husbandry and introduced seden- 
tary life. 

Was it the "imperialistic" Government of ancient 
Moscow which was responsible for the "annexation" of 
the Siberian wilderness? No, this was not the case. 
The Muscovite Government of the XVII Century was 
by far not strong enough to guide the process of settle- 
ment. It only tried to step into the shoes of the set- 
tlers. They were free Russian Cossacks, of the Great 



310 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

Russian stock, who crossed the Urals in the second half 
of the XVI Century and who in another half century 
passed through all Siberia, following the confluents of 
the chief Siberian rivers. In about 1650 they found 
themselves at the mouth of the Amur, on the Pacific 
coast. The peasant followed the Cossack, and the gov- 
ernment official followed the peasant. The Siberian 
population, however, never knew serfdom and the sub- 
missiveness of the Russian center, as the land-owners 
had no opportunity to make Siberian lands their own. 
Siberians always remained splendid specimens of the 
Northern robust race, a liberty-loving folk. They are 
Russian republicans, a forecast of what free Russia is 
going to become. 

What was the attitude of the settlers towards the 
local population? Of course, the Cossacks had come as 
conquerors and economic exploiters. But the peasants 
came as peaceful neighbors. We had no long wars of 
conquest in Siberia. The difference in civilization was 
not so great between the Russian settlers and the Si- 
berian aborigines, as it was at the same time between 
the Anglo-Saxons and the Indians. There was inter- 
marriage, mutual amalgamation, and the physical type 
of the Siberian Russian was slowly changing in the 
midst of the yellow Tungus and Mongol. However, the 
white race asserted itself. An appropriate term to char- 
acterize the cultural significance of Russian settlement 
in Siberia was found by Sir Harry Johnston. He called 
it "Aryanization." Russian settlers, as he rightly 
stated, "were repeating history," or rather, prehistory, 
by "once more Aryanizing Northern and Central Asia," 
The difference was that they were now moving in the 
opposite direction : from West to East. 



RUSSIA— SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON 311 

The process went on throughout the last three cen- 
turies, and the last stage of it was recorded by foreign 
observers. Let me quote from an American book, by 
Mr. Beveridge, on "The Russian Advance" in Asia. 1 
Mr. Beveridge, while in Vladivostok, had a talk with an 
"intelligent Russian commercial man." This is how the 
latter represents that last stage of "Aryanization" of 
the Far East. "Yes," said Mr. Beveridge's informant, 
referring to the prairies north of Vladivostok, "these 
fields were all once occupied by Chinamen ; but now, as 
you see, they are as fully occupied by the Russian peas- 
ant, his wife and his children, as if this land had always 
been a part of Russia. That has not been so very long 
ago, either. It is quite impossible to explain the re- 
tirement of the Chinese. There was no friction between 
the people and the Russian peasant." Mr. Beveridge 
draws a correct conclusion. "This singular fact," he 
says, "which repeats itself in many different phases, 
is one of the most significant truths in the peculiar 
process of Russian expansion: never any friction be- 
tween the Russian and the native." This fact has 
often been confirmed by other observers. The ex- 
planation can be found partly in the circumstance, 
just mentioned by me, of closer standards of culture, 
partly in a particular adaptability of Russian settlers 
to new surroundings, their -generally peaceful disposi- 
tion, free from any nationalist bias. This is what for 
centuries made Russians born colonizers. 

The Far East was thus made an integral part of 
Russia. The Russian population was increasing at a 
remarkably speedy rate. Let us take the last reliable 
statistical data, the census of 1897 and the estimated 

1 The book was published under that title in 1904. 



312 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

figures for 1915. The population of the whole of Si- 
beria was: 

1897 9,196,000 

1915 14,396,000 

The figures for the white population, taken sepa- 
rately, are as follows : 

1897 5,291,000 

1915 10,771,000 (estimated, the lowest figure) 

The white population doubled in eighteen years, 
which, of course, can only be explained by the very 
strong tide of emigration from European Russia after 
the building of the Trans-Siberian Railway in 1896. 
The number of emigrants for that period is more than 
3,000,000. 

The growth of the population is still more marked 
as we go from West to East. These are the figures 
for the provinces to the East of Lake Baikal : 

1897 1915 

(in Thousands) (in Thousands) 

Total White Per Cent Total White Per Cent 



Transbaikalia . 672 


446 


68 


972 


698 


72 


Amur 120 


104 


87 


261 


243 


93 


Maritime Prov- 












i n c e, Kam- 












chatka, Sak- 












halin 223 


126 


56 


707 


610 


86 



1015 676 67 1940 1551 79 

Taken as a whole, the population also doubled (from 
1 to nearly 2 millions) in the eastern part of Siberia, 
But in the provinces now under Japanese control 
(Maritime Province, Kamchatka, Northern Sakhalin) 



RUSSIA— SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON 313 

the white population multiplied almost five times, while 
increasing its proportion to the alien minority from 56 
per cent, to 86 per cent. For the whole of eastern 
Siberia the white population increased from two-thirds 
to four-fifths of the whole. 

You can now see whether it is fair for Japan "to raise 
the question whether Siberia may not be the land of 
the yellow man." Siberia — just like Canada whose 
population is one-half of Siberia's — is the product of 
the white man's thrift, wrested from nature Dy the infi- 
nite toil and endurance of the Russian squatters, 
through a process lasting for more than three centuries. 
Siberia cannot be used by the Japanese for settlement. 
Mr. Kuno conscientiously tells us that the question of 
emigration to Siberia is not at all a "pressing ques- 
tion with the Japanese Government just now." And, 
indeed, the Japanese have proved to be poor colonizers 
even under better conditions of climate and soil. So 
far as that question of settlement is concerned, there 
is no danger of Siberia becoming a "yellow man's 
land." 

But there is another side to that desire to occupy 
Siberian territories. The Japanese want Siberia as a 
colony for raw materials, foodstuffs and minerals. They 
want, moreover, to monopolize this colony, as con- 
trasted with China, which "is being worked by all na- 
tions" and, into the bargain, is developing its own in- 
dustry. It is, of course, very well known that Siberia 
is exceedingly rich in natural resources. Immense 
quantities of iron ore, as yet untouched, exist in the 
Maritime Provinces, particularly north of Vladivostok, 
between Olga and Vladimir Bay ; the deposits lie only 
about ten miles from the coast. Sakhalin coal can be 
easily brought to these well sheltered bays. Enormous 



314 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

quantities of coal are found also in the Amur Province. 
Gold, silver, copper and oil can also be found in the 
same Far Eastern provinces. The extent of the for- 
ests in the Amur and Maritime Provinces is estimated 
at 509,000,000 acres, and the best sorts of timber can 
be found there. As soon as the World War began, a 
host of Japanese surveyors and investigators rushed 
into the Russian Far East, and especially to the Mari- 
time Province coast and to the Russian part of Sakha- 
lin. All the reports of Russian geologists respecting the 
oil and mineral wealth of that part were to be verified. 
"Our Mining Department and Geological Commission 
are literally besieged by the Japanese who are con- 
stantly asking for varied information and are putting 
in claims," said a Russian writer (in the beginning of 
1917). 

It was still more immediately important for the Japa- 
nese to make use of the abundance of fish along the 
coasts of the Maritime Province, Okhotsk and Kam- 
chatka, As a result of their wasteful and predatory ex- 
ploitation, their own fish supplies along the shore of 
Japan were getting exhausted at the end of the XIX 
century. But, at the same time, their fishing rights in 
the Russian waters of Sakhalin and the Amur regions 
had been limited by the regulations of 1899-1900, in or- 
der to safeguard the rights of the Russian population 
and to prevent the rapid exhaustion of fish supplies. It 
was especially dangerous for Kamchatka as here the 
native population and the Russian settlers lived exclu- 
sively on fish. Fish was also the food of their dogs. — 
a necessary component element of their economy; 
clothing, shoes, sails, etc., were being made from fish 
skins. No agriculture can thrive in these regions, and 
the population had to become fishermen and hunters. 



RUSSIA— SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON 315 

But control over fishing was especially difficult there, 
and illegal fishing by the Japanese was largely spread. 
To check that, supplementary regulations were pub- 
lished on Nov. 29, 1901, which confined the Japanese 
fishing rights to Southern Sakhalin and the southern 
part of the Primorsk coast. The Japanese answered 
by threatening the Russian fishing industry with high 
import duties and by establishing in 1902 a powerful 
"Union of Fishermen" in Hakodate, which- deprived 
Russian fishermen of any individual Japanese help with 
gear, vessels, workmen, instructors, etc., and made 
them completely dependent on the corporation. 

The Russo-Japanese War intervened, and, in accord- 
ance with the Portsmouth Treaty of Sept. 5, 1905, a 
special Fishing Convention was concluded in St. Peters- 
burg on July 28, 1907, to remain in force for 12 years. 
In spite of the Japanese insistence based on an arbi- 
trary construction of the text of the Treaty, the Con- 
vention of 1907 reserved for the Russian fishing indus- 
try all rivers and 34 internal water areas. The rights 
of the Russian settlers were thus guaranteed, while the 
Japanese received full scope for the development of 
their own fishing industry. A period of peaceful eco- 
nomic competition set in, in which the Japanese were 
favored by their better technical equipment, larger 
number of vessels and experienced working men and 
stronger initiative of their capitalists, who were sup- 
ported by the State. Competition was difficult for the 
Russians, but they now began to export fish to Euro- 
pean Russia. Especially, the products of the firth of 
the Amur River (the town of Nicolayevsk) were all 
sent to the home market in 1916 and 1917 owing to the 
increased demand for feeding the Army. The Russian 
fish industry thus grew independent of the cheap Japa- 



316 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

nese market. Besides the home market, it found ready 
sales in the best markets of Western Europe. This 
explains why the Japanese were particularly eager to 
use their chance as soon as it presented itself for 
strengthening their position in Russian waters. 

War and revolution opened before the Japanese 
much larger prospectives than that of capturing Rus- 
sia's economic resources in the Far East by the slow 
method of "peaceful penetration." It is during this 
time — and especially during the last four years — that 
the Japanese have actually tried to realize annexation- 
ist schemes such as are formulated by Mr. Kuno. The 
estuaries of the Amur and the northern part of Sakhalin 
were occupied by the Japanese, with all their fisheries 
and other natural resources. A new Gibraltar was to 
be created by fortifying the northern entrance to the 
Japan Sea through the Tartar Straits, and the Japan 
Sea was to be transformed into an inland sea, a new 
Mediterranean. Moreover, a "buffer state" controlled 
by Japan was to be created on the Siberian mainland. 
The officially avowed aim was to ward off Bolshevism 
from Japan and especially from Korea. But the actual 
aim is different. It is suggested in Mr. Kuno's book. 
It consists in warding off Russia from the Pacific and 
thus securing Japan's rear in the event of some un- 
toward happening on that Ocean. 

The campaign for the annexation of, at least, the 
northern half of Sakhalin had begun even before the 
Russian Revolution. In the summer of 1916, a number 
of articles were published in the Japanese press, in 
which the Russian Government was represented as 
prepared to cede to Japan that northern part, as having 
no value to Russia. Japan, it was said, did not 
wish to accept it as a gift from Russia, and was ready 



RUSSIA— SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON 317 

to offer a small monetary compensation. Under date 
of August 12, 1916, a Russian writer, N. M. Popov, 
stated that influential Japanese newspapers were even 
asserting that "in compensation for the freedom of 
action accorded to Russia in the west, she was ready 
to relinquish, in favor of Japan, her sovereign rights in 
the territories lying east of Lake Baikal." 

The Bolshevist revolution in November, 1917, of 
course, gave Japan a splendid chance to advance her 
new claims. As early as December, 1917, Japan took 
her first step. She addressed a note to the Allied na- 
tions and to the United States, offering to send troops 
into Siberia, to protect the Allied interests from Ger- 
many. Japan even proposed to send troops to Europe 
if desired, on the conditions that intervention in Siberia 
should be exclusively Japanese, that her paramount 
position in China and the existing treaties with China 
should be recognized and that exclusive concessions 
should be given to her in Eastern Siberia for mining, 
timber exploitation and fishing. Of course, Japan 
declared that no permanent occupation of Siberia and 
no territorial annexation was intended. 

'After some speculation, France and Great Britain 
accepted the Japanese proposal, provided that the 
United States also agreed. The French idea was to 
have some hundreds of thousands of Japanese troops 
sent, in the spring of 1918, somewhere to the Urals 
or the Volga, where a new "Eastern front" was to be 
built (see Chapter VI). This scheme was vetoed in 
Washington. The United States' argument is made 
clear in a message communicated to the Ambassadors 
of France, England and Italy, on March 3, 1918. "The 
United States," the message states, "is cognizant of 
the peril of anarchy which surrounds the Siberian prov- 



318 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

inces, and also the overshadowing risk of German in- 
vasion. It shares with the Government of 

the view that if intervention is deemed advisable, the 
Government of Japan is in complete touch with the 
situation, and could accomplish it most efficiently. . . . 
But it is bound in frankness to say that the wisdom of 
intervention seems to it most questionable. . . . The 
central empires could — and would — make it appear 
that Japan was doing in the East exactly what Ger- 
many is doing in the West. It is the judgment of the 
United States . . . that a hot resentment would be gen- 
erated in Russia." 

The State Department was perfectly right. All Rus- 
sian parties were equally averse to the Japanese in- 
tervention. On March 5, 1918, Mr. Bruce Lockhart 
telegraphed to the British Foreign Office: "You can 
have no idea of the feeling which Japanese intervention 
will arouse. Even the "Cadet" (Constitutional-Demo- 
cratic) press, which cannot be accused of Bolshevist 
sympathies, is loud in its denunciation of this crime 
against Russia." 

However, a few days later (March 14) Mr. Balfour 
tried to prove before the House that Japan was not 
"moved by selfish and dishonorable motives," that she 
acted as a "friend of Russia." France also stuck to 
her idea, A new, mitigated scheme was now worked 
out in Paris. The intervention was not to be purely 
Japanese, but inter- Allied. Its aim was to help the 
Russian initiative. From March to May new negotia- 
tions were carried on in Washington, to persuade Presi- 
dent Wilson to accept the scheme. This was also the 
aim of the mission of Mr. Bergson. In Moscow the 
Allies tried to influence the Russian parties. After 
a good deal of friction, Russian politicians were in- 



RUSSIA— SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON 319 

duced to consent to the Japanese landing, but on the 
formal promise that Russia's sovereignty, independence 
and unity of territory would not be impaired. A "ver- 
bal note" to this effect was handed over to the Rus- 
sian anti-Bolshevist organizations by Mr. Noulens, 
the French Ambassador (see Chapter VI). President 
Wilson finally consented, but even after that he per- 
sisted in considering the whole undertaking as aimless. 
The other Allies also cooled down a little, as soon as 
they came to know that Japan was not at all interested 
in going further to the West than Lake Baikal. It 
at once threw a lurid light on the real aim of her 
"friendly" support. Lake Baikal is a strategic frontier 
between the Eastern and the Western Siberia and any 
one who is in possession of the railway tunnels in the 
mountains surrounding the lake on the south, holds 
the key to the Far East. 

Japan did not seem to wait until her proposals for 
intervention should be agreed upon by the Allies. The 
Japanese keenly observed the changing situation in 
Siberia and offered their help to the local Russian 
groups working for the liberation of Russia. Ataman 
Semenov, who began fighting the Bolsheviks in De- 
cember, 1917, received Allied aid early in 1918. An 
American report from Irkutsk .(Webster and Hicks, 
on April 3) stated that Semenov "has ample money, 
is paying high price for soldiers," and Semenov him- 
self acknowledged that he was aided (after England 
and France) by Japan. Secret documents found by 
the Bolsheviks in Vladivostok disclosed negotiations 
between the representatives of the newly-built Siberian 
Government and the Allied representatives in Harbin, 
Vladivostok and Pekin in the beginning of April, 1918. 
The representatives of the Siberian Government stated 



320 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

that it was Japan which chiefly benefited by the negoti- 
ations. "The uncertainty of the situation," they said, 
"favors extremely the strengthening of the influence 
of Japan at the expense of the other Allies. The posi- 
tion maintained by the representatives of Japan re- 
garding the recognition of the .Siberian Government 
gives room for the thought that Japan holds the possi- 
bility of recognition entirely in her hands; she makes 
definite terms for recognition, among which it is neces- 
sary to point out the condition that Vladivostok remain 
unfortified." They added that "such predominance of 
the Japanese influence worries the Government of 
Siberia extremely," as "the aim of Japan is to obtain 
complete control over certain economic factors, such 
as, for instance, the fisheries in Kamchatka." They 
stated that "there are public groups which are, it seems, 
ready to use the separate assistance of Japan, which 
she is ready to give" and which "may go the limit, in- 
clusive of a separate agreement with Japan. 1 Conse- 
quently they urged a more clearly defined attitude on 

a Mr. John Spargo in his book " Russia as an American Problem" 
says (pp. 239-240) that "General Horvath was approached (at 
Harbin) by a representative of Japan, Gen. Nakashima, and offered 
the entire support of Japan with all the arms, money and men that 
might be required to clear Siberia of the "Bolsheviki," on the con- 
ditions that "Japan should undertake intervention in Siberia alone," 
"that she should be given the northern half of Sakhalin," "prefer- 
ential trade and commercial rights" in Eastern Siberia, "exclusive 
concessions for the exploitation of all mining areas and .forests east 
of Lake Baikal," "full equality with Russians in the fisheries of 
Eastern Siberia," and "that Vladivostok be transformed into a free 
port and all its fortifications dismantled." But Gen. Horvath in 
a letter to me (Pekin, Aug. 15, 1921) stated that "Japan never 
addressed such demands to me." He admits, however, that there 
were "certain hints in the spirit of some of the points quoted, on 
the part of irresponsible persons." But he concludes that such opin- 
ions "did not at all coincide with the true intentions of the Japanese 
Government." I do not see any basis for such an optimistic con- 
struction and after having taken steps to verify Mr. Spargo's data 
I feel entitled to assert that they repose on good authority. 



RUSSIA— SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON 321 

the part of America towards the Government of Siberia. 

America, naturally, had to change its attitude 
towards intervention when the Allies decided to make 
use of the Czecho-Slovaks in the internal struggle in 
Russia. The Czecho-Slovaks were now to take the 
place of the Japanese, in building the "Eastern" front. 
President Masaryk, who was then in America, per- 
suaded President Wilson that it was necessary to aid 
anti-Bolshevist Russia. However, the part of Japan 
was now to be made equal to that of the other Allies. 
It was, probably, in order to obviate suspicion that the 
invitation to Japan was conveyed by the United States. 
The United States thus took upon themselves a joint 
responsibility for the Allied action in Siberia. 

On August 3, 1918, official declarations appeared 
from the Japanese Government and the Government 
of the United States, mentioning the American pro- 
posal to Japan "that each of the two Governments send 
a force of a jew thousand men to Vladivostok," and 
the Japanese consent to it. The aim of the interven- 
tion was carefully circurnscribed and based upon two 
temporary purposes: (1) "to render such protection 
and help as is possible to the Czecho-Slovaks against 
the armed Austrian and German prisoners who are at- 
tacking them," and (2) "to steady any efforts at self- 
government or self-defense in which the Russians them- 
selves may be willing to accept assistance." A declara- 
tion was added "in the most public and solemn man- 
ner," that the United States "contemplates no interfer- 
ence with the political attitude of Russia, no inter- 
vention in her internal affairs — not even in the local 
affairs of the limited areas which her military force may 
be obliged to occupy — and no impairment of her terri- 
torial integrity, either now or hereafter." The Japa- 



322 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

nese Government equally "reaffirmed their avowed 
policy of respecting the territorial integrity of Russia, 
and of abstaining from all interference in her internal 
politics." They also declared "that upon the realiza- 
tion of the object above indicated ('to relieve the pres- 
sure weighing upon the Czecho-Slovak forces') they 
will immediately withdraw all Japanese forces from 
Russian territory, and will leave wholly unimpaired 
the sovereignty of Russia in all its phases, whether 
political or military." No more positive assurances 
could be imagined, and the readiness to give them, in 
the light of subsequent activities gives place to philo- 
sophic speculation. 

The Government of the United States continued to 
hold the gravest doubt as to the final result of the 
undertaking upon which it was embarking. The same 
announcement of August 3 starts with the following 
argument. "In the judgment of the Government of the 
United States — a judgment arrived at after repeated 
and very searching consideration of the whole situation 
— military intervention in Russia would be more likely 
to add to the present sad confusion there than to cure 
it, and would injure Russia rather than help her out 
of her distresses. Such military intervention as has 
been most frequently proposed, even supposing it to be 
efficacious in its immediate object of delivering an at- 
tack upon Germany from the East, would, in its judg- 
ment, be more likely to turn out to be merely a method 
of making use of Russia than to be a method of serv- 
ing her." 

At the very time when these lines were written, they 
proved distressingly true so far as European Russia was 
concerned (see Chap. VI). The case proved to be the 
same in eastern Siberia. The Americans, as a conse- 



RUSSIA— SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON 323 

quence of their wavering attitude, tried to keep clear 
of armed encounters, and it was said that they took 
pride in the fact that during the first eight months of 
intervention they never killed a single Russian. On the 
contrary, the Japanese very soon revealed their real 
intention to control eastern Siberia. "The British, 
French and American forces," Mr. Spargo says, "were 
systematically kept from points of strategic importance. 
East of Lake Baikal every town and village of any im- 
portance was placed under Japanese control. Every 
railroad bridge and every road was guarded by the Japa- 
nese, and every railroad station from Vladivostok to 
Chita flew the Japanese flag and no other. . . . No 
American, etc., officer could move a man without in- 
forming the Japanese General Staff. On the other 
hand, the American and European officers were never 
informed of the movements of Japanese troops. . . . 
Japanese warships filled Vladivostok harbor, their guns 
trained on the city most of the time. Not a caravan 
could move, not a train be run, not a ship arrive or 
depart without passing Japanese inspection and secur- 
ing Japanese permission." Moreover, the very mean- 
ing of intervention was substantially changed by an 
increase of Japanese troops unforeseen in the initial 
agreement. Every Allied power had been invited to 
send about 7,000 armed men. But soon strange reports 
began to roll into Vladivostok, that Japanese troops 
were everywhere: in the Transbaikal Province, at 
Irkutsk, Chita, upon the Amur line and in North Man- 
churia, at the mouth of the Amur, east of Kirin and on 
the trade route from Mongolia. Intelligence officers 
sent out to investigate the situation brought back the 
news that the Japanese had over 70,000 in Siberia and 
Manchuria, and that beside the Twelfth Division, con- 



324 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

trolled from Vladivostok, they had two more armies: 
the Seventh Division controlled by the Kwangtung 
administration at Port Arthur and guarding the Chi- 
nese Eastern Railway and the Third Division with 
headquarters in Chita, directly controlled by the Gen- 
eral Staff in Tokio. "These facts gradually becoming 
known," an American writer (nineteen years a resident 
of Japan), states in his book 1 which has recently ap- 
peared, "killed that complete faith and trust in Japan 
which characterized the early days of the expedition." 
On November 2, 1918, Secretary Lansing plainly told 
Viscount Ishii that Japan had gone too far. As a re- 
sult, General Otani, the Japanese Commander, received 
orders to send back the 52,000 in excess of the agree- 
ment. But a year later, on September 15, 1919, Secre- 
tary of War Baker told the Military Committee of the 
House of Representatives, that there were still 60,000 
Japanese troops in Siberia as against 8,477 Americans ; 
1,429 British; 1,400 Italians and 1,076 French! 

It may be suggested that just this numerical superi- 
ority was necessary in order actually "to steady the 
Russian efforts at self-government and self-defense," 
as against the Bolsheviks. The Japanese diplomatist 
at the Washington Conference, Baron Shidehara, did 
indeed state at a Committee meeting on Jan. 23, 1922, 
that the Japanese Government were "anxious to see 
an orderly and stable authority speedily reestablished 
in the Far Eastern possessions of Russia." "It was 
in this spirit/' Baron Shidehara added, "that they 
manifested a keen interest in the patriotic but ill-fated 
struggle of Admiral Kolchak." It is only just to men- 
tion that on the very next day after Kolchak's nomina- 
tion (Nov. 19, 1918), the Japanese proposed to send 

""What Shall I Think of Japan?" by George Gleason. 



RUSSIA— SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON 325 

to Omsk a few regiments. However, Kolchak was not 
inclined to play the part of Ataman Semenov and he 
obviously had good reasons to apprehend the result 
of the armed support the Japanese were so eager to 
offer. 

He declined. That chance of controlling Siberia 
gone, the Japanese returned to their former tactics and 
supported Semenov in Chita against Kolchak in Omsk. 
It took about four months to liquidate the conflict, 
and Kolchak had to submit to conditions dictated by 
the Japanese, in order to be recognized by the rebel 
ataman. The conditions accepted established an al- 
most complete independence of the Far East under 
Semenov. This was the first attempt of the Japanese 
to build a "buffer State" : we see that it was to be built 
against the national Government and not against the 
Soviets. 

Kolchak's ministers induced the ruler to yield in 
that question of Semenov, as they hoped that this 
would pave the way for bringing the Japanese troops 
to the front, where they were now badly needed. Far 
from this being the case, the Japanese Government 
even rejected (August, 1919) the Russian- American re- 
quest to send two divisions to the west of Lake Baikal, 
in order to guard the railway line. The "climate" was 
unfavorable for the Japanese in Western Siberia, and 
Siberian expeditions had become too unpopular in the 
Parliament! At the same time a new Japanese division 
was sent to Transbaikalia. 

As stated by Baron Shidehara at the Washington 
Conference, this means that the Japanese "have care- 
fully refrained from supporting one faction against 
another. . . . They withheld all assistance from Gen. 
Rozanov (Kolchak's Governor at Vladivostok) against 



326 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

the revolutionary movements which led to his over- 
throw in January, 1920." The same can be repeated 
concerning the occasion of the overthrow of Kolchak 
himself (Chap. VI). Even on that occasion the Japa- 
nese "maintained an attitude of strict neutrality and 
refused to interfere in these movements which it would 
have been quite easy for them to suppress if they had 
so desired." Baron Shidehara's statement is fully borne 
out by the facts. Kolchak's Premier, Mr. Tretyakov, 
indeed, asked in vain for Japan's help at the decisive 
moment of Irkutsk's revolt against Kolchak. The 
Japanese sent out a detachment of a thousand soldiers, 
but at the same time a telegram from Tokio forbade 
them to intervene. At the, supreme moment when Ad- 
miral Kolchak was ignominiously betrayed by the 
Allies, at the Irkutsk railway station, in mid-January, 
1920, the Japanese soldiers followed the procedure with 
cool curiosity. And when, on February 7, Kolchak was 
shot, there was no more need to "serve" Russia. One 
might now easily "make use" of the incipient Siberian 
chaos. 

However, for a time Japan wavered between the 
two opposite policies of complete withdrawal and re- 
inforced military occupation. On December 8, 1919, 
the Japanese Ambassador at Washington asked the 
Secretary of State which of the two policies America 
was prepared to pursue, in face of "the recent unfavor- 
able development of the situation in Siberia." The 
United States after a "most careful consideration" de- 
cided for withdrawal, thus "marking the end of a co- 
operative effort by Japan and the United States to 
assist the Russian people." The motives given in the 
Note of January 16, 1920, were that the first purpose 
of intervention as expressed in an aide-memoire handed 



RUSSIA— SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON 327 

to the Japanese Ambassador at Washington on July 17, 
1918, the repatriation of the Czecho-Slovak troops, was 
on the way of being accomplished. The second pur- 
pose, "steadying the efforts at self-government and 
self-defense," could hardly be "longer served by the 
presence of American troops." 

Japan decided otherwise. The question of evacua- 
tion was here made a party issue between the omnipo- 
tent military party and the liberal civilians, whose 
influence, however much on the increase, is still not 
strong enough to determine actual politics. The Ameri- 
can observer quoted, Mr. Gleason, rightly connects the 
decision of the Japanese to stay in Siberia with their 
internal politics. "With the dissolution of the Diet 
late in February (1920)," he states, "and the conse- 
quent removal of restraint on the military party, the 
Government early in April announced its decision to 
remain in Siberia. A policy of aggressive control of 
the railroad east of Lake Baikal seems to have been 
adopted." The official motive that was now given for 
a prolonged occupation, was, as stated by Baron Shide- 
hara, "the duty of affording protection to a large num- 
ber of their nationals residing in the districts in ques- 
tion and security in Korea," 

Before we pass to the measures with which the de- 
cision taken "early in April" (4-5) was accompanied, 
we must dwell somewhat upon the pretext chosen by 
Japan for enacting these drastic measures. Baron 
Shidehara grows very emphatic when he comes to speak 
of that bloody "outrage" in Nicolayevsk, which roused 
"the just popular indignations" and for which "no 
nation worthy of respect will possibly remain forbear- 
ing," as "history affords few instances similar to" that 
incident. Exceptionally strong language is thus used 



328 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

to justify an exceptionally strong measure of a "re- 
prisal" to last an indefinite time, "pending the estab- 
lishment in Russia of a responsible authority with 
whom Japan can communicate in order to obtain due 
satisfaction." One must not forget that the incident 
which took place in Nicolayevsk on March 12, 1920, 
was made possible only because "a responsible au- 
thority" had just disappeared as a result of the "move- 
ments which it would have been quite easy for the 
Japanese to suppress if they had so desired." More- 
over, the very massacre at Nicolayevsk was, as we shall 
see, the result of the same Japanese policy. 

And, indeed, what did happen in Nicolayevsk on 
that memorable day of March 12? As a result of Kol- 
chak's downfall the whole country was in a state of 
dissolution, when nobody could vouch for anybody's 
safety. The Japanese garrison, which occupied the 
little town of Nicolayevsk in the estuary of the Amur 
River, was practically the only strong unit of power in 
the whole country to the north of Khabarovsk (Mari- 
time Province). It numbered 600 men in 1919, but 
just at the critical moment it had been diminished to 
300. As early as January 7, 1920, the Japanese Consul 
at Nicolayevsk had sent a telegram to Foreign Min- 
ister Uchida, to warn him that as a result of Bolshevist 
activities in the neighborhood the situation at Nicola- 
yevsk had become desperate. "If our residents," he 
said, "are not removed directly, I cannot guarantee the 
consequences." He asked for permission for immediate 
removal, before it was too late. He was ordered to 
wait for instructions and to act according to circum- 
stances. On January 26 the Consul asked again for a 
detachment to be sent at once, as there was danger 
of being surrounded by the Bolsheviks and removal of 



RUSSIA— SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON 329 

the residents had already become impossible. He never 
received any help, and, at the last moment, he was 
forced to "act according to circumstances." But which 
of the two policies of Baron Shidehara was he to fol- 
low? Was he to remain neutral or to support "an 
orderly and stable authority"? The commander of 
the Japanese garrison, moved by plain good sense, had 
little doubt about it. There was a "robber band which 
called itself Red Army" which was approaching Nicola- 
yevsk. And there was also a small garrison of loyal 
Russians in the town which, as well as the whole popu- 
lation, Russian and Japanese, had to be defended from 
the "robbers." The Japanese commander decided to 
side with the loyal population and he even declared to 
them, in his appeal of January 17, that "all officers and 
soldiers of the Japanese detachment are firmly resolved 
to sacrifice their lives in the defense of the lives and 
property of the inhabitants." In a joint declaration by 
the Russian and the Japanese commanders it was an- 
nounced that the Japanese "are rendering a substantial 
help to the Russian armed forces in their struggle 
against the Red band." The Japanese thus cooperated 
with the only remainder of a "responsible" Russian 
Government and took upon themselves the risk of that 
cooperation. 

However, the defense was not successful and the Reds 
besieged and bombarded the town. On February 20 
(i.e., after Kolchak's death), the Japanese commander 
decided to negotiate and was permitted to communicate 
by wire with his superior in Khabarovsk. To his as- 
tonishment he was told that in Vladivostok, Khabar- 
ovsk and elsewhere there was a "revolutionary gov- 
ernment" towards which the Japanese were preserving 
"complete neutrality." His only aim in Nicolayevsk 



330 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

was now to be "the defense of the Japanese subjects and 
preservation of order." An ambiguous phrase was 
added, that "the Japanese Command will not permit 
the violation of order, if arms are used for usurping the 
power" as they "wish to guarantee the life and property 
of the population and prefer not to see the tragedy 
of useless bloodshed among the fighting parties." The 
"robber band" being thus transformed into a "fighting 
party," the Japanese commander decided to stop "use- 
less bloodshed" by surrendering the town to the Reds. 
Promises were given and accepted that the lives and 
property of the Russian officers and the population 
would be guaranteed on the condition of surrender 
of arms to the Japanese. The Russian commanders 
then thanked the Japanese for their loyal comrade- 
ship — and committed suicide. They knew that rob- 
bers were robbers, and indeed, promiscuous killing had 
begun directly after the entrance of the Red band into 
Nicolayevsk, on February 28. 

After having imprisoned, tortured and killed many 
hundreds of Russians, the bandit leader, a certain 
Triapitsin, on March 11 addressed to the Japanese 
officers a proposal to surrender their arms and mu- 
nitions. Facing that threat, the Japanese commander 
probably decided that this was the end of his "neu- 
trality." He decided to attack the "fighting party" 
first, before they could attack him. Probably, no "re- 
sponsible" Russian authority would have asked for 
"satisfaction" had he exterminated the robbers. Un- 
fortunately, he did not succeed. The robbers proved 
to be too many for him (1,500 Russians, 200 Koreans, 
300 Chinese "partisans" as against 300 Japanese sol- 
diers and 400 civil population). After a few hours of 
initial success, when Triapitsin was wounded and some 



RUSSIA— SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON 33 1 

members of his staff killed, the Japanese were besieged 
at the Consulate and in the barracks, while 600 Rus- 
sian prisoners and all the Japanese civilians were mas- 
sacred. On March 16 the Japanese Command in Kha- 
barovsk sent the order to stop fighting. The theory of 
"neutrality" once more triumphed, and after the Japa- 
nese Consul and all the civil population had already 
been killed, the Khabarovsk Command deemed it 
possible to once more trust the "fighting party." The 
Japanese who remained alive (110 soldiers, 17 wounded 
and 4 women) were ordered to surrender and to give 
up their arms, with the understanding that they would 
be released from prison in the spring. The question of 
"responsibility" for the events of March 12-16 seemed 
thus to be shelved, so much the more as it was very 
difficult to find the connecting link between the robbers 
who had been assailed by the Japanese and any Rus- 
sian authority responsible for the activities of the rob- 
bers. 

It was at this moment that the Japanese Government 
definitely chose between the two opposite policies. 
However, the policy it now decided to pursue was by 
no means that of "neutrality." On a larger scale and 
with more success, the Japanese Command repeated 
now the unhappy attempt of the Commander of Nicola- 
yevsk. On April 4-5 the Japanese detachments in 
Vladivostok, Khabarovsk, Nicolsk, Spassk and other 
towns of the Maritime Province began a sudden attack 
against the Russians, who were not robbers but regular 
soldiers of the "revolutionary government" of Reds. 
Hundreds of Russians were killed, Russian vessels were 
taken possession of, Russian institutions shut down. 
Obviously, at that moment Baron Shidehara's theory 
was completely overthrown. Who was now to hold 



332 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

the Japanese responsible for their acts of open aggres- 
sion against one of the "fighting parties"? 

Before we describe the impression produced on all the 
Russian factions by this new form of the Japanese 
intervention, let us come back to Nicolayevsk. Tria- 
pitsin's band very soon learned of the events of April 
4-5. They understood very well that this time they 
could expect no mercy. A Japanese landing was in 
preparation against them. They now decided to pre- 
vent it and to be the first to act. The power was 
handed over to a "Revolutionary Staff of the Five" 
who worked out a scheme for the complete evacuation 
of Nicolayevsk and the wholesale destruction of the 
town and of all its inhabitants. On May 21-25 all the 
Russians (more than 3,000) and all the imprisoned 
Japanese (131) were murdered by the simplified 
method of stunning and drowning them, all important 
buildings were blown up, while the band of miscreants 
retreated to the southwest, up the Rivers Angun and 
its confluent, the Kerbi, to the gold-bearing mountain- 
ous district. The Japanese who occupied Nicolayevsk 
on June 3, 1920, found nothing but ruins and corpses. 
The bandit leaders, the only "responsible" ones, were 
a month later shot by their mutinying "partisans" 
(July 9). The responsible part of the Russian popu- 
lation in the region continued to cooperate with the 
newly-arrived Japanese garrison, in pursuing the rem- 
nants of the Bolshevist band. 

A regional conference of Russian inhabitants met in 
Nicolayevsk on August 15-23, and it stated in its ad- 
dress to the local Japanese Staff that the Russian popu- 
lation, "believing in the friendly help of Japan to the 
Russian State, had made every effort to facilitate the 
struggle of the Japanese troops against the armed de- 



RUSSIA— SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON 333 

tachments of Bolsheviks scattered all around the Nosk 
district." They hardly expected that it would be that 
same "Russian State" which would be held responsible 
for the Bolshevist robbers. 1 

All the Russian parties were very much aware of 
the coming change in the Japanese policy of occupa- 
tion. If the Japanese really wished, as Baron Shide- 
hara stated, to "prompt the reconciliation of the vari- 
ous political groups in Eastern Siberia," they may have 
been satisfied. All these groups were now united 
against Japan. And as Japan had tried to form in 
Transbaikalia a "buffer state" against Russia, the Rus- 
sians now decided to transform that province into a 
buffer state against Japan. 

The idea was first suggested to the victorious Bol- 
sheviks by the moderate socialistic parties. They un- 
derstood very well that an immediate appearance of 
the Bolsheviks on the Pacific slope would be used to 
justify the change in the attitude of the Japanese and 
help them transform their intervention into a regular 
occupation. A buffer state controlled by Moscow but 
not formally Bolshevist might prevent an open conflict. 
A special congress met in Tomsk, as early as January, 
1920, to discuss that proposal. The Bolsheviks decided 
to accept it, but with one important exception. They 
wished to keep in their own hands the Baikal tunnels 
which formed the gate to the Far East. That is why 
they moved the proposed buffer state from Irkutsk, i.e., 
from the western side of the Lake Baikal, to the eastern 

*See for a more detailed account of the "Nicolayevsk incident" my 
article in the New York Sunday Times, February 5, 1922. It is 
based on first-hand documents and depositions by eye-witnesses, 
which had been handed over to me by the representative of the 
Vladivostok commercial and industrial group, Mr. Alexin, in Wash- 
ington. Mr. Alexin was directed by the Vladivostok Government 
to perform a detailed inquiry into the events at Nicolayevsk. 



334 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

side of it, thus leaving the tunnels in the hands of 
Moscow. It was also decided that the buffer state in 
Transbaikalia was to be only a temporary formation. 
It was to last until their next move to the East should 
be deemed sufficiently prepared. Verkhneudinsk was 
chosen the capital of the new "Far Eastern Republic" : 
it was the first important town on the road from Baikal 
to Chita. In Chita, Ataman Semenov was still in 
power. In Vladivostok, after Rozanov's overthrow, a 
new government had appeared, associated with the 
local Zemstvo and formally "democratic." In fact it 
was also controlled by the Bolsheviks and they did not 
conceal it, in spite of the warnings of the Premier of 
the Zemstvo Government, Mr. Medvediev. "If you 
wish to see the Japanese soldiers here and Vladivostok 
occupied," he said in the beginning of March, "just say 
the last word: Tower to the Soviets!' The occupation 
will surely come." However, that last word was spoken. 
On April 3, Vladivostok witnessed the opening of the 
Soviet. A few days earlier a conference of workmen's, 
peasants' and Red Army delegates was opened in the 
neighboring town, Nicolsk on the Ussuri. On April 
4, as we know, the Japanese answered by an armed 
attack on the Russian army, militia and institutions. 
The authority of Medvediev's Government was under- 
mined, and power in name only was left to him. 

The Russian national feeling was stirred again by 
the Japanese pronunciamento. All the Russian parties, 
extremist, socialist and bourgeois, were as one against 
the Japanese aggression. The Bolsheviks were looked 
upon by the population as the chief defenders of the 
country against the Japanese invasion. The peasants 
voted for and with the Bolsheviks. The moderate 
parties, even non-socialist and conservative, became ex- 



RUSSIA— SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON 335 

tremely conciliatory. On their part, the Bolsheviks 
understood their opportunity and made certain con- 
cessions. Moscow definitely consented to sanction the 
existence of a non-Bolshevist state in eastern Siberia, 
in order to preserve eastern Siberia from Japanese oc- 
cupation. "We agree to the detachment from Russia 
of that buffer state on the territory between Lake 
Baikal and the Pacific, including Northern Sakhalin," 
Chicherin wrote on April 16, 1920. "The future posi- 
tion of this state will be determined by a treaty between 
Russia and Japan." The dictator of the new State was 
to be Mr. Tobelson-Krasnoschekov, a lawyer from Chi- 
cago. To the Japanese representative, Major-Gen. 
Takayanaghi, it was explained that 'no other program, 
except a democratic one, was to be carried out by the 
new Government, and that all rumors to the effect 
that it would be a camouflaged communistic state were 
lies and "provocation." At the same time, to the Rus- 
sians Mr. Krasnoschekov spoke in a more confidential 
tone: "Our republic has a signboard, but the sign- 
board has two sides to it. On the one side is written 
'democracy.' What is written on the other side, is 
for domestic use, for us alone." 

It was the same thing at Vladivostok. In the new 
Government Communist leaders worked together with 
the former members of the Ufa "Directory" (Gen. 
Boldyrev and the "Cadet," Vinogradov) and with the 
non-socialist reprsentatives of industry and commerce. 
All the socialistic groups were united on one platform 
for the elections to the local (Maritime) Popular As- 
sembly. The Communists carried the largest vote, and 
they had 26 deputies, while the Social-Democrats Men- 
sheviks had only 4, the Social-Revolutionaries 3, the 
Socialists-Populists (the most moderate) 2, the Cadets 



336 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

4, the industrials 9. The peasant non-partisan group, 
the most numerous (75 deputies), voted mostly with 
the Bolsheviks. The Bolshevist leader, Nikiforov, de- 
clared, in the name of the "central Soviet Government" 
in Moscow, that they thought that in Siberia capitalism 
must run its course in the way of evolution. 

The leading idea now was to weld the Far Eastern 
and the Primorsk (Maritime) Republics into one. 
Krasnoschekov declared to the Japanese Commander 
in Siberia, Marimoto Ooi, that he was ready to stop 
military operations if the Japanese were willing to 
desist from helping the reactionary elements (i.e., Ata- 
man Semenov in Chita). This seemed to correspond 
with the new turn in the Japanese policy. 

The Siberian expedition had already cost Japan 
about 400,000,000 yen and thousands of lives. Not 
only public opinion abroad, but also the liberal ele- 
ments in Japan were hostile to its continuation. We 
have just seen the sinister success of the military poli- 
cies in April, 1920. But in May the situation changed 
again. Premier Hara, who wished to weaken the Ken- 
sikai party and to make himself popular at the elec- 
tions, withdrew the army from Chita, thus discontin- 
uing the help to Semenov. However, Semenov had 
now with him the rest of Kolchak's army, the "Kap- 
pelites," which after the death of Gen. Kappel in the 
neighborhood of Irkutsk (Chap. VI) had reached Chita 
in mid-February, 1920, under the command of Gen. 
Voitsehovsky. As Kolchak had nominated Semenov 
Supreme Ruler of Eastern Siberia on January 21, 
and the "Kappelites" wished to remain loyal to the 
memory of Kolchak, they were ready to serve Semenov, 
but under one condition. They wished Semenov to 
discontinue his predatory tactics and to lean on demo- 



RUSSIA— SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON 337 

cratic political groups. Semenov did not like the con- 
dition, and he began intriguing against the "Kappelite" 
commanders. Gen. Lokhvitsky took the place of Gen. 
Voitsehovsky, and Gen. Verjebitsky the place of Gen. 
Lokhvitsky. Both sides finally appealed to Gen. Wran- 
gel, who did not care to interfere. 

In the meanwhile the Red Army profited by the 
Japanese evacuation and came as close to Chita from 
the East as the Korymsk station (at the parting of 
the two branches of the Siberian Railway) . The "Kap- 
pelites" had to retreat by the Manchurian trunk-line 
(station Olovyannaya) . They had to stop at the gates 
of China (station Manchuria). It was then that the 
Japanese proposed to them to transport them to the 
Maritime Province through the zone of occupation of 
the Eastern Chinese Railway, on the condition that 
they be disarmed while traversing the Chinese terri- 
tory. The Japanese expected to use the "Kappelites" 
as a kind of militia. As their Transbaikalian "buffer 
state" had not materialized, they now were considering 
a minor scheme, the building of a "buffer within the 
buffer" in the Maritime Province. The coast of the 
Japan Sea was already under their control. They had 
to secure their rear on the mainland, i.e., a distance 
of about 100 miles from Vladivostok to the Manchurian 
frontier. This was important for them not so much 
against Korea or Bolshevism, as in the event of a 
conflict with America. Mr. Washington B. Vanderlip's 
concession in Kamchatka and America's naval pro- 
gram had brought the Japanese nationalist irritation 
to the highest pitch, and there was talk in the Japanese 
Chamber of a war to come within the next two years, 
before new American ships were ready. 

However, when the "Kappelites" came, the Japanese 



338 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

saw that it was a well-disciplined force of about 16,000 
fighters. They thought it better not to give back their 
arms to the "Kappelites," and they settled them on the 
territory of the Usuri Cossacks, to the north of Vladi- 
vostok. Semenov was thus left in Chita without any 
help, either from the Japanese or from the Kappelites. 
It was easy for the "Eastern Republic" to surround 
Chita and to take it, on October 21. Semenov had 
to flee away and he was permitted by the Japanese 
to settle in Port Arthur, where he soon became the 
center of a reactionary agitation. The part of the 
gold fund he still possessed was sequestrated and its 
use controlled by the Japanese. 

The Bolshevist scheme of reuniting Transbaikalia 
with Primorsk was now ripe for realization. A few days 
after Semenov's defeat, a conference met in Chita in 
order to decide the problem of the final reunion of all 
the local Governments of Eastern Siberia. Amur, 
Chita, Verkhneudinsk, Vladivostok, Sakhalin and 
Kamchatka were represented, partly by fictitious dele- 
gates. On November 9, 1920, the conference elected a 
central Government, which was then recognized as 
vested with the supreme power over all the territory 
of Transbaikalia, the Amur and Maritime Prov- 
inces. However, the Maritime Province protested and 
insisted on preserving its autonomy rights. Neverthe- 
less, a Constituent Assembly of the whole of Eastern 
Siberia was convened in Chita. It met on February 
12, 1921. Its composition was: 223 peasants, mostly 
sympathetic with the Bolsheviks; 147 Bolsheviks, 20 
Social-Revolutionaries, 14 Mensheviks and 20 buryats. 1 
On January 24, 1921, the northeastern part of Siberia, 

*A native nationality settled round the southern part of the 
Baikal Sea. 



RUSSIA— SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON 339 

Kamchatka and the Anadyr region were transferred 
from the new Republic to the direct control of the 
Soviet Russia as a field for foreign concessions which 
might bring about a clash between Japan and America. 
In April, 1921, the Constituent Assembly finished its 
work and was declared the "National Assembly," until 
the next elections which are due in January, 1922. In 
the meantime, local Siberian elements gained the up- 
per hand in Chita. Krasnoschekov was recalled to 
Moscow. Even under the Bolsheviks, Siberia wished 
to guard its independence and to live its own life. 

The Japanese now concentrated their attention on 
the Maritime Province, and especially on the Southern 
and Northern extremities of it, Vladivostok and the 
Tartar Straits, for the reasons already made clear by 
Mr. Kuno. We shall soon see what they did in the 
Tartar Straits, at a place very remote from the eyes 
of the world. At Vladivostok they had to be more 
careful. They could not openly overthrow the Medve- 
diev Government. But they wanted it to be independ- 
ent from the Far Eastern republic in Chita, and in 
order to attain that aim they made use of local dis- 
sensions. Local strivings for independence were in- 
creased by that time as a result of communistic at- 
tempts to dominate the situation from Chita. The 
spirit of conciliation which had moved the Bolsheviks 
in the first part of the year (1920) was passing away. 
Responsible posts in the Vladivostok administration 
were all taken by the Communist agents of Chita. The 
activity of the Communist political police had become 
conspicuous, and some of the Kappelites had been 
murdered. At the same time, as a result of an economic 
crisis the prestige of the Government was falling in the 
eyes of the population. The opposition groups of the 



340 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

right wing did not fail to make use of the growing dis- 
affection. Some leaders of that reactionary opposition 
were now finding support in the Japanese, who hoped 
once more to make use of Semenov in opposition to 
Chita. The preliminary negotiations of the opposition 
leaders with Semenov at Port Arthur resulted in the 
working out of a scheme for a general movement 
against the Reds in Primorsk and in Transbaikalia. 
On the other hand, Semenov had connections with re- 
actionary monarchists and with Wrangel. The Japa- 
nese representative at Gen. WrangeTs headquarters 
may have been instrumental in keeping up these ties. 1 
The first symptom of a coming overthrow was the 
convocation of a congress of "non-socialistic" parties, 
which took place in Vladivostok in March, 1921, under 
the guidance of the brothers Spiridon and Nicholas 
Merkulov, local business men, who kept in touch with 
Semenov. Among other matters, the congress passed 
two characteristic resolutions which testify to the Japa- 
nese influence: (1) That Vladivostok must be defi- 
nitely detached from Chita and (2) That the Japanese 
occupation shall be prolonged. Before the congress was 
ended, a coup d'etat was tried, but it did not succeed. 
A second attempt to overthrow the semi-Bolshevik 

1 On January 2, 1922, the Chita delegation at the Washington 
Conference made public a series of alleged secret documents, which 
touch upon the question mentioned above. The documents were 
promptly denounced as forgeries by both the Japanese and the 
French official delegations. In certain parts of these documents 
forgery is evident, but this does not invalidate the fact of the 
contemplated transfer of a part of Gen. WrangePs evacuated army 
to Vladivostok. However, it did not materialize. Russian officers 
and Cossacks brought to Vladivostok on October 2, 1921, on the 
transport Franz Ferdinand, belonged to the group (including the 
Ural Cossacks) which saved themselves from the Bolsheviks at the 
time of Denikin by a retreat through Persia to the Persian Gulf. 
Mr. Tirbach, who is mentioned in the documents as an intermediary 
between the Russians, French and Japanese is known in certain 
circles in America. 



RUSSIA—SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON 341 

Government was more successful, and on May 26, 1921, 
the Government of Spiridon Merkulov took its place. 
The "buffer within the buffer" was thus secured. But 
now Semenov also tried to have his share of the spoils. 
He was brought to Vladivostok on a Japanese steamer, 
Kyoto-Maru. He considered himself to be the head 
of a general uprising due in eastern Siberia in the 
spring, as had been prearranged in Port Arthur. The 
Japanese favored that scheme. 1 When Semenov met 
with opposition on the part of Merkulov, the Japanese 
transferred him secretly on their lorry from the steamer 
to Grodekovo station, where Kappel's and Semenov's 
troops were located and they tried to reconcile the 
Kappelites with the Semenovites, who were considered 
too reactionary by the former. However, they did not 
succeed, and nobody would follow Semenov. The 
whole scheme broke down, and Semenov went to Japan. 
At the same time, the White army led by the reaction- 
ary monarchist, Baron Ungern-Sternberg, was to at- 
tack Chita from the South (from Mongolia), but it 
was defeated by the Reds- and Ungern himself was cap- 
tured and shot. The Japanese had to satisfy them- 
selves with their "buffer within the buffer," — the Mari- 
time Province. 

It would not be fair to assert that these schemes and 
activities were approved of by the whole of Japan. The 
liberal current in the country, Chamber and Ministry, 
was still for complete evacuation of Siberia. The 
civilian members of the late Khara cabinet shared the 

1 Another batch of documents published by the Chita delegation 
at Washington, reproduced in the New York Times on January 4 
and 5, refers to the moment of Semenov's arrival at Vladivostok 
and to his schemes for a subsequent campaign against Chita. These 
documents are in complete agreement with the facts already known, 
and I would not be surprised if they prove to be genuine. But 
for the time being I refrain from making use of them. 



342 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

opinion that the troops must be withdrawn. The colo- 
nial conference held in Tokio in May, 1921, also 
decided to evacuate Siberia upon the condition that 
the Eastern Republic of Chita should maintain order, 
desist from communist politics and facilitate the eco- 
nomic development of Japanese resources in Siberia. 
But that view was strongly opposed by the omnipotent 
military party. General Tachibana, the Commander 
of the Japanese troops in Siberia, declared in his inter- 
view to Asahi, the Tokio paper, that the policy of 
evacuation was unwise and imprudent. He mockingly 
rebuked the civilian diplomats who do not understand 
the real interests of Japan. "If the military men did 
at any time play the part of diplomats in Siberia, cer- 
tainly that was because the Foreign Office failed to 
take the necessary steps for the maintenance of the 
national prestige as well as of the national interests." 
The military men obviously knew better. 

What have the military men really done in Siberia, 
since they confined their activities to the "buffer within 
the buffer," in April, 1920? The record of their man- 
agement of the Maritime Province is horrible, and it is 
this record that was to have been considered by the 
Washington Conference, if discussion had been found 
possible. 

The measures taken by the Japanese military gov- 
ernment in the Russian part of Sakhalin give a very 
good illustration of what the Japanese meant by 
"peaceful penetration." That term was used by them 
to explain the Japanese intentions in Siberia to the 
American public opinion. To Russian objections 
against using it, the Secretary General of the Japanese 
delegation to the conference, Mr. Masanao Hanihara, 
replied that it meant only "the demand for equal right 



EASTERN 
SIBERIA 



HH|7e/r/70/y of the Japanese (k^/pofi'on 
$fc Japanese 6am'sons 



ATLAN T I C 




Japanese Occupation in the Russian Far East. 



RUSSIA— SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON 343 

for the trade of all nations." * As can be seen from 
the Sakhalin example, the Japanese militarists under- 
stand their penetration in a very different sense. Un- 
fortunately, it is they who act while their diplomats 
are allowed to speak. 

We have a collection of sixty odd "orders," "regula- 
tions," "announcements," "appeals" of the Japanese 
military administration, introduced in Sakhalin after 
its occupation, i.e., since April 29, 1920. 2 For the first 
three months they tried to keep at peace with the local 
population. They paid good prices for real estate, 
they bought food, timber from the peasants, made use 
of their carriages for transport, employed Russian 
workingmen at good wages, etc. But at the end of 
July, when new Japanese troops were landed, this 
policy was entirely changed. Detachments of Japanese 
soldiers were sent around to all the villages; about 
5,000 Japanese workmen were imported speedily, to 
construct a railway to the interior. A part of the coal 
mines was now exploited by the Japanese, new explora- 
tions of mines and oil-fields were hurriedly carried out 
by the officially protected firm, Mitsu-Bishi (camou- 
flaged by an agreement with a Russian firm), timber 
was cut indiscriminately, fisheries on the Sakhalin 
coast leased almost exclusively to the Japanese, as the 
Russian enterprises were ruined. In order to control 
the island without any obstruction on the part of the 
Russian administration, the Japanese abolished all 

*The Japanese statement is included in their "eleven points" 
unofficially published by the New York Herald in November. The 
Russian answer, signed by Mr. Avxentiev and myself, was made 
public by the Associated Press on Nov. 24, 1921. Mr. Hanihara's 
statement appeared in the New York Times on December 9, 1921. 

'"The Russian Sakhalin as New Japan," published in Russian at 
Vladivostok, 1921. The last documents in this book are dated May- 
June, 1921. 



344 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

the local institutions, including the local organs of self- 
government. A sort of advisory councils, presided 
over by "Eldermen" — all nominated by the Japanese — 
took their place, and the only function left for them 
was to make the population acquainted with the Japa- 
nese orders and to execute these orders. Even the 
clergy in the churches, and the schoolmasters in the 
schools were made Japanese officials. 

The Russian civil and criminal code and the Russian 
tribunals have been abolished, and Japanese courts- 
martial judge all offenders (except the Japanese) ac- 
cording to the Japanese military law. Further posses- 
sion, acquisition and sale of real estate has been made 
dependent on Japanese permits. The same measure 
extends to the rights of possessing arms, hunting, leas- 
ing plots of land, cutting timber, fishing, forming so- 
cieties. Acquisition of landed property and mining is 
definitely forbidden. All formerly acquired rights must 
be registered by the Japanese notaries. Political or- 
ganizations, meetings, leaflets and newspapers of "po- 
litical content" have been declared criminal, together 
with rape, blasphemy, forgery and every kind of viola- 
tion of public order. I cannot exhaust here all the 
detailed regulars which control every step and every 
action of the local population. In the spring, 1921, 
it was formally declared that the Russian population 
(thus cut off from its own means of subsistence) can- 
not count upon any earnings from the Japanese au- 
thorities. They stopped buying everything from the 
Russian inhabitants, and even hay was imported from 
Japan. The Russians are thus compelled to emigrate, 
and their place is already being taken by the Japanese 
immigrants. This is how the Japanese "peaceful pene- 
tration" is being worked out. 



RUSSIA— SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON 345 

But however sad the Sakhalin story is, a still more 
important point is the occupation of the opposite shore 
of the Tartar Straits, with the town of Nicolayevsk, 
commanding the estuary of the Amur and the harbor 
de-Castries, which took place on June 3, 1921. It 
is sufficient to say that the methods of occupation were 
here the same. An attempt of the Russian population 
to organize, at the Conference of Aug. 15-23 (see 
above), a temporary Provincial Board of Administra- 
tion was vetoed by the Japanese Military Administra- 
tive Department. No answer was given to the demand 
of the Conference to permit the organization of an 
armed detachment strong enough to defend the Udsk 
district from the Bolshevist forces. The question of 
provisioning the population for the winter of 1920-1921 
was left without consideration. All safes, metallic 
parts, telephones, furniture, engines, musical instru- 
ments, stores of flour, oats, salted fish, timber, vessels, 
etc., preserved from the time when Triapitsin destroyed 
Nicolayevsk, were requisitioned and exported. Japa- 
nese fishermen have been allowed to fish in the internal 
waters below Nicolayevsk, which violates the Fishing 
Convention of 1907 and will lead to the exhaustion 
of fish supplies, which constituted 75 per cent, of the 
sustenance of the local population. New bids were 
opened for hundreds of new fishing stations and, of 
course, in the absence of the Russian competition, they 
were taken by the Japanese. Fishing rights in the 
Okhotsk-Kamchatka region were also enlarged by a 
Note of January 17, 1921, presented by the Japanese 
Consul General to the Vladivostok Government. All 
the provisions of the Fishing Convention of 1907 were 
here completely disregarded. In spite of the numerous 
protests by the Russian institutions (February-May, 



346 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

1921), the Japanese Government realized all their as- 
pirations, and if things are to remain as they are now, 
not only is the local population menaced with starva- 
tion and the further development of Russian settle- 
ment checked, but the world supply — especially of sal- 
mon — is endangered owing to the Japanese predatory 
methods of fishing. 

But there is another side to that occupation of the 
Amur estuaries which is by far more important and 
dangerous than even these methods of the Japanese 
"peaceful penetration." It is the strategical side of 
the question. With the Korean Straits in the firm 
possession of Japan, with Vladivostok under its com- 
plete control, this was the last remaining outlet to the 
Pacific for Russia. If the occupation of Nicolayevsk 
should become final, the Japanese will have attained 
their aim of transforming the Japan Sea into the Japa- 
nese "Mediterranean," of assuring their rear from any 
Russian attack in the event of some "unpleasant con- 
flict" in the Pacific and of depriving the "white man" 
of his last footing on the other side of that ocean. 

What is the official motive for the occupation of Nico- 
layevsk? Sakhalin was occupied "as a guaranty for 
indemnity in the massacre of 700 Japanese at Nicola- 
yevsk." (We know how it happened.) But what 
about Nicolayevsk? Mr. Hanihara told us a funny 
story. They could not help it. Nicolayevsk belongs 
to Sakhalin. "The order adding this bit of mainland 
to the island was issued in 1914 and according to report 
was the act of a Russian official whose household found 
Sakhalin pretty dull and lonely in the winter months 
and thought that any place on the mainland of the 
Eastern Hemisphere, even Nicolayevsk, would be a 
little less cheerless. This is the reason why the massa- 



RUSSIA— SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON 347 

ere at Nicolayevsk led to the occupation not only of 
Nicolayevsk, but of the island opposite — the island 
which is part of the same administrative unit." 

We do not quite see which is the addition to which : 
Nicolayevsk to Sakhalin or Sakhalin to Nicolayevsk? 
If Sakhalin may be believed to be a specimen of "peace- 
ful penetration," Nicolayevsk is a purely strategic 
measure preparing for war. We know from Mr. Kuno, 
as well as from the debates in the Japanese parliament, 
what war was meant and why it was necessary to oc- 
cupy both Sakhalin and Nicolayevsk. The real rea- 
sons are, of course, quite different from that futile "in- 
demnity" question which, however unjust and baseless, 
every Russian Government, Petrograd, Moscow or 
Chita would be equally ready to settle. The Chita 
representatives at Washington declared that Triapit- 
sin's band was "a body of irregulars hostile to their 
Government as well as to foreigners, and that their 
Government was not responsible for the massacre." 
But in spite of that they were "willing to pay the com- 
pensation for the loss of Japanese life and property," 
and every Russian Government would do the same, as 
the Japanese procedure is quite disproportionate to the 
offense. 1 

Such was the situation created by the Japanese in 
the Far East, when the Washington Conference in- 
cluded the Siberian question in its agenda. We know 
from Mr. Hughes' note of March 25, 1921, what the 
intentions of America were when she proposed to the 
other powers to settle that question. All the Russian 
delegations present in Washington were unanimous in 
their opinion which was perfectly identical with the 

1 See the Chita delegation's statement in the New York Times, 
December 15, 1921. 



348 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

American viewpoint. "Immediate evacuation" has be- 
come the slogan of even such groups as the Vladivostok 
official and unofficial representatives. They would be 
the first to suffer from the Japanese evacuation, as they 
would be immediately attacked by the Reds. But the 
only thing they asked for was that the Japanese should 
return their arms and munitions, taken from them since 
April, 1920. They were ready to run the risk if 
only the Japanese danger could be removed from 
Russia, 

On the other hand the Japanese were quite deter- 
mined to stay. While consenting to give some vague 
promises as to a general evacuation of Siberian terri- 
tories, they insisted on making an exception of Sakha- 
lin and — obviously — of Nicolayevsk. The British first 
tried to withdraw the question from the agenda, and 
then, when they saw that Mr. Hughes was deter- 
mined to include it, they declared themselves neutral 
and ready to rely on the Japanese promises. The atti- 
tude of the French was uncertain, as they generally 
helped Japan without wishing to offend Russia, Under 
such conditions, there was the danger that the Confer- 
ence would take some middle course that would end in 
a compromise on the Siberian question. Mr. Hughes' 
appeal for a "moral trusteeship" over absent Russia 
would then have been cast aside. The slightest indica- 
tion of sanctioning, directly or indirectly, the Japanese 
occupation of Siberia, given out by an international 
tribunal of such high authority, would have been a 
great victory for Japan and a moral encouragement to 
continue. The whole line of the American policy, so 
sound and consistent, so apt to lay down deep and solid 
foundations for our mutual understanding, so unique in 
the world of international relations, would have been 



RUSSIA— SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON 349 

marred. Fortunately for Russia and for Russo-Ameri- 
can friendship, that danger was avoided. 

America, naturally, could not go to war with Japan 
for Siberia. But it did not wish to change its view- 
point and policy. Secretary Hughes finally proposed a 
resolution according to which the conflicting statements 
by the Japanese and American delegations were spread 
upon the records of the Conference without any at- 
tempt at reconciliation. The parties abstained from 
public discussion, in order "that this occasion for di- 
vergence of views between the two governments be re- 
moved with the least possible delay." But a statement 
by Secretary Hughes clearly emphasized the scope of 
that divergence. The American Government took the 
Japanese assurances "to mean that Japan does not seek, 
through her military operation in Siberia, to impair 
the rights of the Russian people in any respect, or to 
obtain any unfair commercial advantages or to absorb 
for her own use the Siberian fisheries, or to set up an 
exclusive exploitation either of the resources of Sakha- 
lin or of the Maritime province." The State Depart- 
ment, of course, was in possession of ample evidence 
that Japan had been doing just these very things she 
was promising to abstain from doing. But, as "the 
Government of the United States had no desire to im- 
pute to the Government of Japan motives or purposes 
other than those which have heretofore been so frankly 
avowed," it confined itself to the expression of the hope, 
"that Japan will find it possible to carry out within the 
near future her expressed intention of terminating 
finally the Siberian expedition and of restoring Sakha- 
lin to the Russian people." 

Moreover, Secretary Hughes made public the text of 
the American communication to Japan of May 31, 1921 



350 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

(answered by Japan on July 21 in the usual evasive 
phrases). The attitude of the United States is de- 
scribed in detail in this communication. It states re- 
peatedly that America feels responsible for the com- 
mon promises given to the Russian people at the be- 
ginning of the intervention of 1918 and that the new 
course of the Government of Japan runs counter to 
these promises. Japanese encroachments are "a mat- 
ter of deep and sensitive national feeling transcending 
perhaps even the issues at stake among themselves" 
(see above). Japan's action "tends rather to increase 
than to allay the unrest and disorder in that region," 
and it "keeps alive their antagonism and distrust 
towards outside political agencies/' The reprisals for 
the Nicolayevsk affair raise the question of "scrupulous 
fulfillment of the assurances" given in 1918 rather than 
the question of "validity of procedure" according to in- 
ternational law. The United States points out the in- 
admissibility of the "continued occupation of the stra- 
tegic centers in eastern Siberia — involving the indefi- 
nite possession of the Port of Vladivostok, the station- 
ing of troops at Khabarovsk, Nicolayevsk, de Castries, 
Mago, Sophiesk and other important points, the seizure 
of the Russian portion of Sakhalin and the establish- 
ment of civil administration which inevitably lends 
itself to misconception and antagonism." America 
will never, "neither now nor hereafter, recognize as 
valid any claims of titles arising out of the present 
occupation and control, and it cannot acquiesce in any 
action taken by the Government of Japan which might 
impair existing treaty rights or the political or terri- 
torial integrity of Russia." Russia will always remem- 
ber this splendid and noble act of American statesman- 
ship. 



RUSSIA— SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON 351 

The Washington Conference did not discuss the 
Russo-Chinese relations, and in general they do not 
present anything menacing the universal peace. How- 
ever, this chapter would be incomplete were I to omit 
this problem. There are two questions concerning 
China which must be settled, in the mutual interests 
of both countries. In the first place, the Government 
of Pekin has suspended treaty rights granting privi- 
leges of exterritoriality to Russian nationals. With all 
respect to the Chinese claims for restitution of their 
sovereign rights, in that question of exterritoriality the 
Russians might prove by their experiences of the last 
twelve months that the Chinese judiciary cannot be 
considered at present as equal to dealing with foreign 
(viz., Russian) citizens and interests. The great num- 
ber of Russians who live in the railway zone and 
Kharbin, makes the issue particularly important for 
them. But this is a general issue and it would not call 
for a specially Russian solution if there were a legal 
Russian Government at present. As things are, some- 
body must take care of them, and we should be espe- 
cially grateful if it were America. 

Another question, that of the Chinese Eastern Rail- 
way, is particularly important for Russia. If Russian 
rights and territories are set free from the Japanese 
encroachments in the Maritime Province, if the white 
man is restored to his position on the Pacific, but the 
Chinese Eastern Railway is permitted to change hands, 
a good part of the result attained would be destroyed. 
A look at the map will show that the road through 
Manchuria is the short cut from Chita to Vladivostok. 
The northern line, from Chita to Khabarovsk, follow- 
ing the Amur River to the East and then abruptly turn- 
ing up the Usuri River to the south, until it reaches 



352 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

Vladivostok, was very much delayed in execution owing 
to the difficulties of climate and soil, especially in its 
western section. This is a region with temperature 
swinging from 82 degrees below zero in winter to 93 
degrees above zero in June. The soil never thaws to a 
depth of more than 3 feet. Vegetation is scant and the 
population is extremely scarce. The line may open up 
important mineral resources, but it cannot serve the 
aims either of trade or of settlement. That is why as 
early as 1896 an agreement was concluded between the 
Chinese Government and a Russian corporation, backed 
by the Government, the Russo-Chinese Bank, for the 
construction and management of the southern line, 
through Manchuria. There was nothing in that agree- 
ment which might interfere with the "open door and 
equal opportunity policy," no claims for any "special 
interests" or "superiority of rights" for Russia. 

The encroachments on the rights of China by Russia, 
as well as by other nations, which led to the enuncia- 
tion of Secretary Hay's doctrine on September 6, 1899, 
were posterior to that treaty. As the starting point 
and the terminus of that railroad were on Russian terri- 
tory, the treaty secured for Russia, besides certain 
facilities for constructing and running the line, com- 
plete freedom of transit of goods and passengers, includ- 
ing munitions and soldiers. But goods conveyed to 
China and passengers booked for the interior, had to 
submit to the general rules of Manchurian traffic. It 
was, as Mr. Thomas F. Millard stated, 1 "a cautious and 
pacific course," which might "make Russian occupation 

*'The New Far East," 129-30. See also the same author's "Our 
Eastern Question" for documents connected with Mr. P. C. Knox's 
attempt to neutralize the Manchurian railways. The statement 
quoted in the text is fully borne out by Count Witte's personal 
recollections. See his Memoirs, English edition. 



RUSSIA— SIBERIA— JAPAN— WASHINGTON 353 

advantageous to the world at large, including the na- 
tive population." "A military policy was substituted 
for the commercial one," as soon as Admiral Alexeiev 
was permitted to take the place of Count Witte, and 
since then "Russia's designs in Manchuria were des- 
tined to fall." In 1910 Russian diplomats spoke of the 
"military and political interests of Russia in Man- 
churia," and insisted on Russia's right to control 
China's railway policies. Secretary Knox's proposal 
broke down on that rock, but the world came to know 
what is wrong about the international policy toward 
China. Democratic Russia is certain to bring the whole 
question back to the stage previous to the Alexeiev- 
Hay-Knox development, and to set the Russian com- 
mercial policy free from any "strategical" or political 
implications. 

Russia needs its free outlet through Vladivostok no 
less than Poland needs its outlet through Danzig. The 
moral basis of the claim is the same, but the legal basis 
is much stronger, because Vladivostok is a thoroughly 
Russian town, surrounded by Russian territory. There 
is this difference also, that the Russian hinterland 
which needs this free port is the immense plain of 
Siberia. Its economic development, the growth of its 
towns, the exploitation of Siberia's natural resources, 
the speedily increasing export of foodstuffs and raw 
materials necessary for the world, — all this on almost 
an American scale, — all this depends on the continua- 
tion of a free transit to the Pacific, upon which the 
modern advance of Siberia is chiefly based. On the 
other hand, it is now Japan which will be obliged to 
proffer its "strategic and political" reasons for preserv- 
ing its way over Manchuria and Mongolia. Control 
over railway communication in the interior is an essen- 



354 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

tial part of that general scheme of Japan which is in 
process of realization on the Pacific Coast. All the 
resources of the hinterland will thus strengthen the 
offensive force of the Japanese army and fleet, while 
with the removal of Russia from the Pacific Japan's 
rear will be perfectly secured from any operations on 
the mainland. It is especially here that the principle 
of international "trusteeship" can be easily applied. 
Ever since the international intervention the Chinese 
Eastern Railway has been administered by an interna- 
tionally organized board with the participation of Rus- 
sian representatives. There is no reason to change that 
system now, in the absence of Russia. 

I hope the reader will realize how great is the service 
that the United States rendered us by its refusal to 
recognize the state of things created by Japan in east- 
ern Siberia. I also have tried to make it clear just how 
important it is for the United States itself to preserve 
the Russian status possidendi in Siberia, in so far as it 
will be upheld by the new democratic Russia. 



CHAPTER XI. 

RUSSIA'S CONTRIBUTION TO THE WORLD'S 
CIVILIZATION. 

It is a great relief to a Russian, at a moment when 
Russia presents an appalling show of utter destruction 
and heart-rending misery and when the fate of its 
nations and conditions of closer cooperation of the 
world powers are discussed in her absence, to speak on 
that other, never-dying Russia which has already given 
to the world so many tokens of its moral and intellec- 
tual power in the Society of Nations. 

Russia is no stranger to the world. Nor is she a new- 
comer clamoring for recognition. Were Russia to die 
now, her spiritual heritage would give her a prominent 
place in the common treasury of world civilization. And 
Russia is far from having spoken her last word. 

Russia did not take part in the Allied feasts of vic- 
tory and peare, nor was she asked to express her opinion 
before the international tribunals. Rut Russia is pres- 
ent — on the shelves of your libraries, in the minds and 
the sentiments of millions of readers who day by day 
witness her moral triumphs. You give your applause 
to that Russia in your concerts and on your stage, and 
it is often Russian artists who win your favor. You 
learn to know that Russia in your picture galleries. 
Tolstoy and Dostoyevsky, Tchaikovsky and Rachman- 
inov, Vereschaghin and Roerich, Anna Pavlova and 

355 



356 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

Chaliapin, and so many others are known and appre- 
ciated in this country as well as in mine. 

I am proud to say, moreover, that Russia's creative 
geniuses are given so much attention not because they 
are good imitators of arts invented by other advanced 
countries. It is the especially Russian style that at- 
tracts you, and you prefer the bold and original masters 
of art who give away to you a part of our national soul, 
to the docile pupils who copy the foreign patterns per- 
fectly. 

Let us, however, agree on the exact meaning of that 
term: "national art." There are certain outward signs 
and symbols of nationality which unfailingly evoke in 
you the idea of this or that particular ethnic group. 
When a national flag is waved, or when an actress wears 
a Phrygian cap, you know at once what it means. Stage 
managers know how to make you recognize a Russian. 
A combination of colors in fancy dress, a series of move- 
ments in dance, or a tune of a known national song, a 
few lines of architectural design are sufficient to attain 
that aim. 

All this is national, and often nationally traditional. 
But it is not yet a contribution to the world civiliza- 
tion. It is just ethnography. A certain sequence of 
colors, or sounds, or lines designates a Russian, as it 
may designate a Bushman or a Singhalese. Costumes 
for ethnographic museums or for theatrical pageants 
can be collected from every corner of the world. But 
this is not art. Our writers, our painters, our musicians, 
our artists claim much more than that. What is na- 
tional and Russian about them, is not necessarily fet- 
tered to a special make or color of dress, or to a tune 
and rhythm of a song. They may speak to you the 
common language of the art of civilized humanity, free 



RUSSIA'S CONTRIBUTION 357 

from ethnographic conventionalities, and they never- 
theless pretend to remain Russians. It is practically 
the only means to make the Russian soul a subject of 
interest for you, in its special way of being affected by 
emotions which are universally human and substan- 
tially modern. When you finally learn to know the 
Russian soul as a part of your own, and when you be- 
gin to feel that with her aid you have learned to under- 
stand your unexplored self better and deeper than be- 
fore, — it is only then that you will understand the kind 
of contribution that humanity has received from Rus- 
sia. I know that any one of you who really has had 
that thrill of emotion — so many have had it — will love 
Russia. 

My task is thus very limited. Such things alone as 
can be looked at as an actual contribution to the world's 
moral, mental and esthetic culture, will be discussed 
here. I am not going to talk to you of that long period 
of our past that is entirely unknown to you, when Rus- 
sia was preparing for her present role. Our modern 
soul, which appeals to the world — and our methods 
of art which really have made it universally known — 
both are of comparatively recent provenience. There 
are certain things in this part which have also deserved 
to be known to you, but partly due to the imperfection 
of international intercourse in former times, partly due 
to their having been too idiomatic, too much specifi- 
cally Russian, these things have remained inaccessible 
to the world, and I shall not mention them in this brief 
outline. 

You also will not expect me to speak on the Russian 
people in general. A national soul reflects itself in the 
most conscious way through that "sensorium" of a 
nation, its thinking and feeling organ, its "intellec- 



358 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

tuals." If that brain of a nation is lacking or unde- 
veloped, you may speak of its national folk-lore, its 
songs, its ethnography, but the contents of the national 
soul remains inaccessible and uninteresting to the world. 
Of course, the Russian intellectuals were often blamed 
in Russia itself for having detached themselves too 
much from their own people, in order to be able to 
represent their nation and to reflect the popular mind. 
The part of truth in this assertion is, that for a certain 
time a part of the Russian intellectuals were so much 
influenced by European civilization that they de- 
nounced and condemned their own nationality. But 
even then they were unable to separate themselves 
from it, and their condemnation remained rather the- 
oretical. That period of close imitation of foreign 
fashions in living and literature lasted for about a cen- 
tury after Peter the Great's bold leap to the West 
(1720-1820). However, even then excesses of imita- 
tion ("xenomania") provoked excesses of nationalist 
reaction ("xenophobia"). Taken as a whole, that pe- 
riod of preparatory education was inevitable and nec- 
essary for Russia to make up for the time lost. It took 
five generations to introduce the stage of national con- 
sciousness. That is why only the three or four last 
generations were able to speak to the world. 

What did they reveal to it? Before going into de- 
tails, let me try to define what is in general the descrip- 
tion of the national soul which made it appear so at- 
tractive. I should summarize it in three principal 
features which are, of course, interdependent. We are 
fresh and primitive. We are free and non-conventional. 
We are true to our impulses and principles and unwill- 
ing to compromise. 



RUSSIA'S CONTRIBUTION 359 

The Russian people as well as their intellectuals are, 
indeed, not only young, but primitive. That is not a 
reflection on them. It is a promise. The western 
world, time-worn and weary, as it were, of its long cul- 
tural existence, longs for the primitive. Our primitive- 
ness does not exclude refinement. But we are not 
"biases": let me use that untranslatable French term, 
invented by the oldest nation of western Europe. You 
now see our chance. There is nothing new under the 
sun. But everything is new for one who lives for the 
first time. 

The Russian intellectuals are not conventional. 
They are not committed to any secular tradition. Such 
spiritual tradition as had been in the process of making 
was broken by Peter the Great. It was not the result 
of his personal whim : it was a fated necessity for Rus- 
sia to move on and to retrieve the time lost, not to be 
left behind by the world in motion. Our great writer, 
Alexander Herzen, said that a Russian is the freest 
man in the world, because he wears no fetters of past 
ages. That sort of freedom may have its drawbacks. 
It certainly has its advantages. 

Absolutely free in the choice of their leading view- 
points, our intellectuals regularly followed the changing 
European fashions. That is why they also changed 
their criteria of thought and action with almost every 
generation. They were rationalistic in the XVIII Cen- 
tury, romantic and mystical at the beginning of the 
XIX, realistic and positivist in the middle of the Cen- 
tury, romantic and religious again at its end. At the 
beginning of the XX Century they became revolution- 
ary, and they probably are "non-party" to-day. But 
whatever their view, they always strove for unity of 



360 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

thought, unity between thought and action. The Rus- 
sian intellectuals have made their own that German 
term, also untranslatable: "Weltanschauung." 

The principles which our intellectuals worshiped 
were often too abstract and academic, inapplicable to 
practice, not open to compromise. Our intellectuals 
did not know much of actual life. But they were 
always ready to sacrifice their lives for their ideals, and 
that characteristic feature of our intellectuals made 
many foreign observers call them religious without re- 
ligion. 

You will find all these features reflected in Russia's 
contribution to the world civilization. Russian crea- 
tive geniuses are regularly bold and radical, in the sense 
that they do not stop before any consequence of the 
idea which they deem to be true. They carry their 
idea to the end. This feature is preserved through gen- 
erations, just because, as I have stated, every genera- 
tion begins anew. "Sons" are, as a rule, at variance 
with their "fathers." They take up the last sugges- 
tions of Europe, they work them out independently, 
and thus give original creations which make their way 
outside of Russia, and wake up new life. At the same 
time within Russia they succumb to their pitiless logic 
and, unable to find outlets from blind alleys, they are 
abruptly relieved by the entirely new ideas of the fol- 
lowing generation. No continuous tradition could thus 
be formed. Russian masters of art remained icono- 
clasts and explorers of paths unknown. 

Russian intellectuals are entirely sincere with them- 
selves in their creations. This is the source and the 
secret of their force. Whatever they do, they mean it 
seriously. They are not amateurs and epicureans, but 
prophets and preachers. Faith in their vocation and 



RUSSIA'S CONTRIBUTION 361 

steadiness of purpose often made great masters of our 
dilettanti. 

Our authors and artists remain natural even in the 
midst of their extreme affectation, assumed postures 
and mannerisms. They have no false shame and no 
fear of public opinion. The only thing they are afraid 
of, is not to be true to themselves. They prefer being 
cranks to being commonplace. Far from being afraid 
to look what they are, they strive to reveal the inmost 
recesses of their soul. J. J. Rousseau's "Confessions" 
is an exception in the western literature. In Russia, 
confessions are almost the rule. It is easier to be inti- 
mate with us — or not to know us at all — than to remain 
at a distance, on terms of simple acquaintance. We 
make friends, or we quarrel, but we do not like to 
entertain neutral and indifferent relations. 

Russian art and literature, while reflecting these 
qualities and drawbacks of the national soul, enjoyed 
the same kind of influence, but probably in a higher 
degree, as was generally exercised by the northern art 
and literature. In the countries of southern tempera- 
ment and old culture it was obviously the freshness of 
emotion that pleased and made them forgive the na- 
ivete of the northern "barbarians." In the countries 
of younger psychology, the Russian attempts to fathom 
the depths of the national soul proved especially help- 
ful to a better cognizance of their own, as the ways of 
thinking and feeling were here more congenial. 

We now have the thread which will help us through 
the labyrinth of names and facts connected with our 
subject. The kind of contribution made by Russia 
has just been described. Let us see who were the con- 
tributors. Of course, only the most representative or 
typical ones can here be mentioned. 



362 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

Just a few lines on Russia's contribution to the world 
of science, before I speak of literature and art. Impor- 
tant as this kind of contribution is, it generally escapes 
the attention of the public. The work of the Russian 
scholar is very well known to respective specialists, each 
in his branch. It was particularly well known and fol- 
lowed up during the recent period, owing to the better 
organization of international learned intercourse. Let 
me only mention that even in this department of human 
culture — the least national of all — Russian peculiari- 
ties reflect themselves in a very marked way. Russian 
scholars brought to their study of science that same sin- 
cerity, that same daring initiative, that same taste for 
philosophical unity of thought, of which we have al- 
ready spoken. Russian scientists do not belong to the 
category of compilers of handbooks and compendiums, 
they are not the registrars of acquired knowledge, but 
pathfinders. They dig deep to the root, each in his 
place, and they look at detailed research as a means for 
universal constructions. On the very threshold of the 
history of Russian science we meet a man who is a 
symbol and an achievement. I mean our great Lo- 
monosov, the man from the people, a peasant who came 
on foot from his village to the newly built University 
and Academy of Sciences in Petrograd and who finally 
found himself in advance of European science. In the 
midst of the XVIII Century, he became "the father of 
physical chemistry." He believed in "corpuscular phi- 
losophy" ; he tried to apply qualitative analysis to the 
study of physical properties of bodies. In his inquiries 
he implied the principles of conservation of matter and 
of motion ; he established certain propositions of mod- 
ern physics, such as the mechanical theory of heat, the 



RUSSIA'S CONTRIBUTION 363 

kinetic theory of gases, the continuity of the Qiree states 
of matter, etc. 1 

In the XIX Century also many names of Russian 
scholars were known outside of Russia for their mas- 
tery in combining detailed study with philosophical syn- 
thesis, such as Lobachevsky in mathematics; Mend- 
eleyev in chemistry; Sechenov and Pavlov in physiol- 
ogy; Timiryazev, the renowned follower of Darwin, as 
well as Kovalevsky and Metchnikov, in the theory of 
evolution; another Kovalevsky (M. M.) in the science 
of comparative law; Sir Paul Vinogradov in history, 
and others. Their names are all connected with some 
capital reform in their respective sciences. Allow me 
to add to them one more name, that of Dr. J. J. Manuk- 
hin, now in Paris, who has just found the means to 
save humanity from tuberculosis. 

But let us pass to the proper domain of the national 
soul: art and fiction. To make my short review as 
clear as possible, I shall classify the outstanding facts 
according to chronological periods, not according to the 
separate branches to which they refer: fiction, painting, 
music, theater, dance. We thus shall avoid many 
repetitions, as the same spirit of a certain period reflects 
itself in all the separate branches of art. The view of 
art as being united and forming a whole through its 
different ramifications, is one of the basic principles 
of the Russian monistic trend of mind. 

Four consecutive periods can be distinguished in the 
process of the revelation of the Russian soul through 
Russian art: 

1 See for further details A. Lappo-Danilevsky, "The Development 
of Science and Learning in Russia," in "Russian Realities and Prob- 
lems," Ed. by J. D. Duff, Cambridge, 1917. 



364 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

1. 1820-1850— The birth of the national schools. 

2. 1850-1880 — The expansion of realism. 

3. 1880-1905— The romantic revival. 

4. 1905-1921 — The contemporary period. 

I leave out, as you see, the entire period before 1820. 
It was, as I have said, the period of imitation, and it 
fell in line with the then social mission of art : to serve 
the esthetic tastes and social conveniences of the Court 
and the Nobility. So far as its creations are concerned, 
it was the bombastic style of pseudo-Classicism, or the 
lusciously sweetish style of Sentimentalism, which was 
equally artificial. Both contrasted completely with 
and were entirely foreign to, the substance of the Rus- 
sian soul. Through such a heterogeneous medium, na- 
tive qualities of artists could not make themselves 
manifest, and the only form of protest left to them was 
to return to the plain art of the folk. 

A truly national Russian art began to appear at the 
end of that period of preparation. However, the initial 
revolt against artificiality and conventionality in art 
was raised under another imported banner— that of 
European Romanticism. National Russian schools 
soon evolved and got rid of this foreign influence. The 
process of that final emancipation fills the entire period 
between 1820-1850. With its consummation the chief 
preliminary condition for Russia's influence over the 
world was accomplished. Russian art was now freed 
from its swaddling clothes. 

Just because this period from 1820-1850 was a 
transitional one, the world did not learn to know well 
our great writers and artists of that period. However 
great to us, they became known outside of Russia only 
at a later date, rather from history than from direct con- 
tact, and mostly only as names. Our great poet, Push- 



RUSSIA'S CONTRIBUTION 365 

kin, we call the father of our national school in litera- 
ture. In music it is Glinka. It is difficult to give one 
single name for painting, which is always a little late 
in following the lead. I shall give you two names of 
men representing different tendencies: Brullov and 
Alexander Ivanov. 

Some of the subjects of Pushkin's dramatic poetry 
are known to you from the Russian Opera. The libret- 
tos for Glinka's "Ruslan and Ludmilla," Dargomish- 
sky's the "Rusalka" and the "Stone Guest" (Don Juan), 
Tchaikovsky's "Eugene Oneggin" and "The Queen of 
Spades," Mussorgsky's "Boris Godunov," Rimsky- 
Korsakov's "Mozart and Salieri" are based on Push- 
kin's poetry. Pushkin's lyrics, as all others, lose very 
much in translation. Pushkin's chief merit, from a 
historical viewpoint, lies in how, not in what he has 
written. Pushkin gave us that literary language which 
we now use. Before him we had had a "high style" for 
classical odes and a "low style" of spoken language, 
which was not considered dignified enough to be used 
for literature. Pushkin hammered out of both a lan- 
guage free from obsolete and conventional rules, rich 
and pliant and able to reflect all shades and colors of 
the living reality. Pushkin's protest against conven- 
tionalism may be drawn from Byron, and his sanction 
for realism may have been found by him in Shake- 
speare. The result, however, is genuinely Russian and 
thoroughly national. Pushkin and his friends unbound 
our feeling and thought, thus giving us means for their 
adequate expression. The necessary weapon for trans- 
mitting Russian thought to the world was now ready. 

I must not fail to mention here another writer of 
that preparatory epoch, who trod the path opened by 
Pushkin, and who indeed contributed to the world of 



366 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

literature. Nicholas Gogol gave you the mirror for 
that part of the Russian soul where mirth and sorrow 
are welded in one. Like Moliere, he scoops out the bed- 
rock of human weaknesses, in his south-Russian vein of 
humor, and like Moliere, in spite of the remoteness of 
the period he lived in, he is immortal. Characteristi- 
cally enough, he is only now made known to the world, 
in recent translations. For you, he is one of the many. 
To us Gogol is the first after Pushkin. 

I named Glinka as the originator of our national 
school of music. Pushkin had predecessors (like Ka- 
ramzin) who paved the way for him. Glinka had none. 
Since the two Empresses, Anna and Elizabeth, who 
succeeded Peter the Great (1730-1761), we had Italians 
at the Court, and Italian music held the field without 
any opposition. Italian bet canto dominated our pub- 
lic. Glinka also proved unable to throw off this yoke 
at once. But he succeeded in introducing the national 
element in music. His melody is the melody of our 
national song — not mere imitation, but imbued with 
its spirit. His harmony brings us back to the Russian 
Church choir, which has had so much attention paid 
it recently in this country. So far as his subjects are 
concerned, Glinka is already in search of simplicity and 
freedom from affectation on the stage. He also begins 
the search for musical themes in the East, which is 
another typical feature of the national Russian com- 
posers. 

Glinka's lead is soon followed by Dargomishsky, 
whose tendencies are Wagnerian before Wagner. "It 
is my wish," says Dargomishsky, "that the music should 
interpret the words. Truth is indispensable for me." 
And, indeed, Dargomishsky's "Stone Guest" turns from 
Italian arias and appoggiaturas to dialogue and recita- 



RUSSIA'S CONTRIBUTION 367 

tive. "He knows," Cesar Cui says of him, "how to 
fit each period or sentence with the musical form best 
adapted to it. . . . With him all the words of the text 
(which he faithfully reproduced from Pushkin) and all 
the details of the drama seem to be of a piece with the 
music." 

The past of our painting also consists of imitation of 
France and Italy. The evolution here is slow and no 
one is equal to Pushkin or Glinka, Brullov, a great 
talent and the only educated painter of the epoch, is 
often called "the Russian Delacroix." But that kind 
of Romanticism is, as yet, too artificial and Brullov 
lingers too much in his academic tradition in order to 
become a real liberator. He also keeps too much aloof 
from real life; he is too proud and too lofty, to descend 
to the lower depths. Alexander Ivanov, to the con- 
trary, is devoured by a burning desire to bring life to 
his canvas. But it is not Russian life; the painter feels 
powerless to reconcile idealistic and realistic elements 
in his paintings and he dies from unaccomplished 
efforts. We have two more notable painters who strive 
for life and reality: Venetsianov and Fedotov — "the 
Gogol of painting." But the former is still too con- 
ventional and the latter is held back and obscured by 
the shining star of Brullov: it is still considered "low 
style" to treat of everyday subjects. This is how the 
real beginning of our national school in painting was 
postponed until the following period. 

This second period (1850-1880), which nearly coin- 
cides with the reign of Alexander II and with the period 
of "great reforms," beginning with the emancipation 
of the peasants, is also a period of exceptionally speedy 
growth and expansion of the national creative power 
in all the branches of art. It is our first really classical 



368 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

period, and a great number of first rate writers and 
artists from this epoch may be quoted as having reached 
world fame and recognition. The avowed aim of all of 
them is the same : to attain complete truth, while using 
complete freedom in their methods and approaching 
reality as closely as possible. 

Literature was the first to start on that campaign of 
naturalism. Three great Russian novelists tower high 
above all their contemporaries in the esteem of the 
world: Turgeniev, Dostoyevsky, Tolstoy. They are 
all Russian intellectuals: i.e., they are not only masters 
of fiction, but philosophers and deep thinkers on social 
and moral problems. They lived at a period when the 
democratic social layers were just beginning to be rep- 
resented in the field of literature by their younger 
contemporaries of democratic extraction. The revolu- 
tionary movement in Russia was just beginning. 
Themselves, they belonged to the gentry and to the 
generation of the "forties" which here met with that 
democratic generation of the "sixties." Their way of 
reacting to the new movement was extremely charac- 
teristic of their own different tempers and views. 

Turgeniev — a nobleman by education and a Euro- 
pean by taste — looked at the democratic movement 
with warm sympathy, and in his novels he gave us a 
series of artistic revelations as to its spirit and soul. 
He also tried personally to bridge the psychological 
chasm which already had opened between "Fathers and 
Sons." Dostoyevsky, in contradistinction to Tur- 
geniev, was intensely Russian, in what was good and 
bad in him. He was full of hatred against the new 
movement, which he knew at much closer range, from 
having himself become its victim. He also gave us 
pictures, sometimes prophetic, of what would happen 






RUSSIA'S CONTRIBUTION 369 

in Russia under a revolution. But in his passionate and 
biased attacks he confounded the idea of revolution 
as a great step towards democracy with its local and 
temporary embodiment. Tolstoy, an aristocrat by 
birth and a democrat by the trend of his life, kept aloof 
from current politics. Tolstoy of this period is the 
great novelist, not the great moralist that he became in 
the second half of his life. But he already tries to be 
of all times and to speak not to literary circles but to 
humanity. It was then that he gave us what he him- 
self called his "Russian Iliad," the great novel, "War 
and Peace." 

I do not intend to exhaust that extensive subject I 
have just touched upon: the comparison between the 
three great writers of modern Russia. But I want to 
emphasize one more feature that they possess in com- 
mon, in spite of all their differences of character and 
opinion. They know the human heart in its different 
appearances: women's hearts in Turgeniev's artistic 
tales and novels; tragic depths and base instincts 
welded together with highly idealistic inspirations in 
Dostoyevsky's deep analysis; finally, the complete 
scale of human feeling in dispassionate, epic stream 
of Tolstoy's great work. 

In the painting and music of this period (1850-1880) 
there was an equally exuberant outpouring. The move- 
ment was again led in the same direction of truth and 
sincerity. A tendency to follow literature as closely as 
possible prevailed. The language of sounds and of 
colors was to follow closely the language of words. A 
painter would choose such a subject for his treatment 
as would enable him to aid the giants of literature in 
promoting the cause of a better future for Russia. A 
composer would avail himself of everyday occurrences, 



370 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

in order to express them in sounds. Instead of choosing 
really pictorial or musical themes, they would make use 
of their rich resources of color and sound to narrate 
and to criticize. It was to be realistic art with a "pur- 
pose" and with a "tendency." 

Some weaker artists succumbed to temptation: they 
sacrificed realism to "purpose." But as a rule realism 
asserted itself. Take, e.g., the same subject, the vil- 
lage church procession, painted by Perov and by Repin, 
a Tolstoy in painting. Perov makes of it a scathing ex- 
posure of the drunken habits of the lower clergy. Repin 
represents, in his epical way, a piece of the living Rus- 
sian reality, and you can see how earnestly the Russian 
people feel about that solemn ritual ceremony. The 
great canvases, "The Haulers" and "The Zaporoguian 
Cossacks" by Repin also convey to you the true spirit 
of the folk in servitude and in freedom. There is a 
"tendency" here, but it coincides with the truth in 
Repin's pictorial comment. The truth is multifold, 
and Repin always wants a crowd to tell you how that 
truth reflects itself through the psychology of his care- 
fully selected groups of representative types. Each 
face is here a collective portrait and a study in so- 
ciology. 

Repin is not well known abroad, but you do know 
a painter of the same group, Vereschaghin. His col- 
lective scenes of war horrors speak so eloquently for 
peace and disarmament. You have here another illus- 
tration of how realism can pursue a tendency and yet 
remain thoroughly true to life. 

The group of realistic painters just mentioned, in 
order to achieve their aim, had to free themselves from 
tradition. They began their activity with a revolt 
against the Academy of Arts. In 1863 they decided 



RUSSIA'S CONTRIBUTION 371 

upon secession, and they formed their "Society of Wan- 
dering Exhibitors." Hence the name of "Wanderers/' 
which they received. A generation will pass, and in 
their turn they will be accused by their "sons" of being 
an obstacle in the way of a new truth. 

It is the same thing — in music. Our great composer, 
Mussorgsky, was rightly compared to Tolstoy, so far 
as his ideas of art are concerned. We find here the same 
disregard for all the accepted conventions in musical 
composition, the same desire to remain unsophisticated 
and natural, the same aversion to imitating former 
types of art, and a kind of instinctive fear of being 
unconsciously influenced by them. Hence a decided 
omission of study of old masters and a conscious exag- 
geration of one's own originality. "When we are cruci- 
fied by the musical Pharisees," are Mussorgsky's own 
words, "then shall we have begun to make real prog- 
ress. They will accuse you of having violated all the 
divine and human canons. We shall just say, 'yes; 
adding to ourselves that there will be many such viola- 
tions ere long. 'You will soon be forgotten,' they will 
croak, 'for ever and aye.' And our answer will be: 'no, 
no and no.' " 

Mussorgsky was right. He is much better known 
and admired now than during the time he was alive. 
You know his "Boris Godunov" and "Khovanschina," 
great epic work like Repin's canvases. You may also 
know his compositions such as the "Nursery" scenes, 
which reveal a great connoisseur of a child's soul, or 
his "Pictures from an Exhibition," which are real pic- 
tures in sounds, trying to describe a troubadour in 
front of a medieval castle, or a Polish chariot on huge 
wheels driven by oxen, a little goblin hobbling clum- 
sily, a ballet of chickens fresh from their shells, etc. 



372 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

I shall not fail to mention the other four members 
of that renowned group of the "Five" Russian com- 
posers of our national school: Balakirev, the initiator 
of the group; Borodin, who is after Mussorgsky, per- 
haps, the strongest and the most original; Rimsky- 
Korsakov, best known for the brilliancy and color of 
his instrumentation, and Cesar Cui, the musical critic. 
Tchaikovsky stands apart from them and is accused 
of eclecticism. However, it is not incidental that of 
all the Russian composers Tchaikovsky was the first 
who won for Russian music the largest popularity out- 
side of Russia. A great Slav and Russian soul speaks 
to you through Tchaikovsky's melodies. They are 
especially representative of the deep melancholy and 
sadness which are Tchaikovsky's personal note but at 
the same time are typical of the national soul of the 
Great Russians, as confirmed by the Great Russian folk- 
songs. 

Let us now pass to the third period of Russian art, 
that of 1880-1905. One may call it the fin de siecle 
period, as it reflects all the corresponding influences of 
the western fin de siecle art and literature. Of course, 
according to the general law of our intellectual develop- 
ment, it developed in strong contrast with the previous 
period and proclaims its complete negation of the fore- 
going period. Being myself a younger contemporary 
of that generation of Russian great realists, I did not 
quite like to see the new generation, of 1880-1905, 
grow too critical in its turn, and in my capacity of his- 
torian I could have foretold them that the same law 
of conflict between "Fathers and Sons" might some day 
be extended to them as well. However, I could not 
deny that theirs was a strong case and that Russian art 
was making here a new and important step forward. 



RUSSIA'S CONTRIBUTION 373 

Realism and naturalism have in their turn become 
conventional, the new generation went on asserting. 
A new tradition which was thus in the process of build- 
ing, had to be discarded just as the old academic tradi- 
tion had been, in order that the new reformers might 
recuperate their freedom. 

Why did they need it? 

Their contention was that the problems of art should 
not be made subsidiary to rational, non-artistic consid- 
erations. They insisted that there should be no more 
narrative painting or music. The painter should return 
to his own pictorial subjects, and the composer must 
proceed to solve his own problems of sound, without 
committing himself to the dictates of literature, and 
especially without serving any political "purpose." We 
shall soon see that the trend of literature had also 
changed accordingly. 

This was, as I have said, a very just and right con- 
tention, with the only exception that some politics was, 
as a matter of fact, substituted for the former politics 
of realistic radicalism. Here are the very words of 
Alexander Benois, one of the group. "All that was 
vigorous and young," he states; "the slogan of these 
protestants was the cult of old Russian culture, a some- 
what Slavophil slogan." The "Slavophils" were the 
Russian nationalist conservatives. 

And indeed, the emancipation from realism, which 
was now considered too shallow and prosaic, came 
through renewed contact with old Russian historical 
tradition. "By the way of historical painting," Mr. 
Benois states, "Russian art passed from narrow, doc- 
trinal realism to new creative efforts." But "history," 
mere history, was not enough for the new Romanticism 
which was now coming to the forefront. What at- 



374 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

tracted the new generation in history was its mysterious 
darkness, its connection with legend and faith, with 
fairy tales of the folk-lore and religious inspiration, — 
in short, with everything that could stimulate the 
imagination and generate deep moral emotion. 
* It was chiefly painting that made itself instrumental 
in carrying out the new movement of protest. Mr. 
Serge Diaghilev's review, "The World of Art" ("Mir 
Iskusstva," 1898-1904), made itself a combative organ 
of the movement, and the artists who grouped them- 
selves around that review formed their own society for 
exhibitions of their new art, in harsh conflict with the 
old-school paintings of the "Wanderers." The new 
school wished again, first and foremost, to be sincere 
and true to themselves, and, while revealing their own 
souls, the artists considered what they produced as the 
first revelation of a real national soul of Russia. They, 
again, did not care a bit about the generally accepted 
standards of public opinion and they were never afraid 
of shocking it by their innovations in technique, more 
daring than any made by the earlier reformers. 

They were justified by their final success, which came 
at the end of the period, after a long and fierce struggle. 
Moreover, they made themselves much better known 
and appreciated outside of Russia than their predeces- 
sors had ever been. It is partly due to the perfected 
methods of international intercourse, partly to the per- 
sonal contact of some representative members of the 
new school with foreign opinion, and partly to the 
coincidence of the new Russian tendencies with changes 
of artistic taste outside Russia. But, of course, the 
chief reason for the victory of the new artistic spirit in 
Russia is that they were able to give to the world 
really wonderful creations. 



RUSSIA'S CONTRIBUTION 375 

The originators of the new school were, as usual, less 
fortunate. Vrubel, whose creative genius is especially 
appreciated by his contemporaries, made some of the 
first bold attempts, based partly on his study of By- 
zantine art in Ravenna. But his career was cut short 
by insanity, and his renowned "Demon" was painted 
when he was already in the clutches of his illness. 
Other representatives of historical and ecclesiastical 
painting were more successful: Victor Vasnetsov, who 
found his inspiration in the same source of Byzantine 
art and Russian popular legend; Surikov, whose can- 
vases form a counterpart to those of Repin, a "Dos- 
toyevsky in painting," describing the internal pains of 
the national soul, deeply religious and profoundly dis- 
turbed in its belief, as opposed to Repin's dispassionate 
epics. Valentine Serov, the acknowledged leader of 
the new art and the connecting link with the realistic 
school, marks the consecutive evolution of the transi- 
tional stage: "a man of unusual sincerity, and absolute 
enemy of posing and of every preconceived tendency," 
a "truly Russian painter who grasped the psychology 
of the Russian mind" (A. Benois). Then came the 
uncompromising Roerich, whom America now knows 
from his exhibitions. It is not reality, but vision, 
legend, myth, that Mr. Roerich is exclusively concerned 
with, and he depicts his visions in wonderful colors and 
in purposely "stylicized" contours. He wants you to 
go back with him to the mysterious origin of things, 
when human forms were welded with those of nature, 
and matter and spirit were one. Or he would lift you 
to ethereal regions of things unseen. Some European 
critic called Roerich a "new and remarkable interpreter 
of the Old Testament." My comparison will be more 
pagan, but I think it covers the ground better. Mr. 



376 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

Roerich's cosmogony rather reminds one of Wagner, 
than of the Book of Genesis. It begins, like that of 
Wagner, in deep and elemental tones of the world 
chaos (the first bars of the "Rheingold") and it winds 
up in a clarified apotheosis of a Parsifal — in Roerich's 
latest creations. However, the best characterization of 
Roerich is, perhaps, that given in a letter which he re- 
ceived from M. Tagore, which was recently published. 
"Your pictures," M. Tagore writes, "made me realize 
that . . . truth is infinite. When I tried to find words 
to describe to myself what were the ideas which your 
pictures suggested, I failed. It was because the lan- 
guage of words can only express a particular aspect of 
truth, and the language of pictures finds its domain in 
truth where words have no access. Each art achieves 
its perfection where it opens for our mind its special 
gate whose key is in its exclusive possession. . . . When 
one art can fully be expressed by another, then it is a 
failure. . . . Your art is jealous of its independence, 
because it is great." * 

From what has been said before you see that Tagore's 
appreciation hits the point. It appears to be an un- 
biased justification of the new trend of our national 
school of painting. 

Our national school of music was already compara- 
tively more free from such "purpose" and "tendency" 
as was suggested by the literature of the "sixties" and 
the "seventies." That is why the artistic reaction of 
the fin de Steele generation was here less pronounced 
than it was in the case of the spiritualist revolt against 
realism in painting. But a reaction of a similar kind 
also took place in musical composition. 

At the basis of it we find the same desire to renounce 

1 The Arts, Jan., 1921, New York. 



RUSSIA'S CONTRIBUTION 377 

the "purpose," the "program," in order to make a 
larger and more appropriate use of proper means of 
this particular art. A sound, Stravinski thinks and 
says, is, first and foremost, a sound. You must not 
search for a combination of sounds to convey to you 
an idea which may be better expressed in words. The 
sound is there for its own sake, just as color, in a pic- 
ture. The speech of colors and of sounds may not be 
translatable in words: so much the worse for words. 
Let us enjoy colors and sounds as such, for their in- 
trinsic beauty. To attain this aim we need a display of 
sounds and colors unhampered and unlimited by form, 
by texture or drawing. The frame, the organizing ele- 
ment, is thus relegated to the second place. It is the 
substance of sound, of color, which is given free space. 

Innovations in technique are here also welded with 
a tendency to mysticism, to a religious penetration 
through the sound into superior worlds of the spirit, 
known to the adepts of theosophy. Alexander Scria- 
bin's creative effort in music is a counterpart to that 
of Roerich in painting. Music for Scriabin is a 
method of a higher synthesis of life, art and religion. 
Creative ecstasy is the state of emotion apt to attain 
the full light of knowledge on the mystical ways of 
nature. A normal harmony, based on the usual dia- 
tonic scale, is too narrow a frame for Mr. Scriabin's 
inspiration. He is constantly in search of new har- 
monies, of more refined scales, of less solid and more 
volatile sounds, which should be able to reflect by in- 
cessant quivers a sort of peculiarly mystical vibration. 

The transcendental aim, of course, was not attained. 
Scriabin died like Vrubel, in the very process of con- 
juring up a "mystery" to be brought down to the earth. 
His poem, "Mystery," was never completed. But his 



378 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

earlier symphonic productions. "The Divine Poem," 
"The Poem of Ecstasy/' "Prometheus, the Poem of 
Fire/' as well as his compositions for the piano, after 
a period of struggle and misunderstanding, have defi- 
nitely won a prominent place in musical performances 
all the world over. 

For many reasons literature did not prove during 
the period from 1880-1905 as prompt and as much 
decided on a new start, as either painting or music. The 
giants of the preceding period still retained their influ- 
ence, while new talents did not prove strong enough 
to herald a great change. The political reaction of 
Alexander Ill's entire reign (1881-1894), which fol- 
lowed the glorious beginning of national creation under 
Alexander II (1856-1881), seemed to have stifled liter- 
ary inspiration. A protest against political "tendency" 
and "purpose" in literature coincided too much with 
the opposite, the reactionary politics, to be inspiring. A 
romantic return to religion and metaphysics also did 
not prove generally attractive. The current idea that 
art is concerned with beauty, not with morality or poli- 
tics, has actually inspired some poets, e.g., Balmont 
and Briusov, a novelist like Mereshkovsky, and some 
literary critics. But, in contradistinction to what was 
happening in the domain of music and painting, they 
had nothing great and new to show in order to prove 
their thesis by facts. They extolled Dostoyevsky, the 
most biased politician and the least inclined to wor- 
ship an abstract ideal of beauty. At the same time 
Tolstoy began his open revolt against art, as being 
"incomprehensible" and "unnecessary" to the people, 
and he simply used his great talent to preach his morai 
ideas. In short, the "modernists" in literature have 
found no hearing, and their literary organ, The North- 



RUSSIA'S CONTRIBUTION 379 

em Messenger (Severny Viestnik) ceased publication 
after two years of existence (1897) "for lack of sub- 
scribers." Such new writers of note as appeared at 
that period, Chekhov, Gorky, Leonid Andreyev, Kup- 
rin, in spite of all their differences, must be classified 
as "realists." Chekhov, the greatest among them, is 
probably the nearest to the realization of the modernist 
idea of "pure art." But it is just because he is a real- 
ist and not a theorist. He depicted Russian life just 
as he found it, without emphasis or exaggeration and 
without resorting to dramatic effects. But life itself 
at that period of reaction was dull and empty and 
devoid of any political interest. Chekhov's great art 
lay in his power to show life as it really was, and to 
conduct his reader through his endless gallery of hu- 
man types, taken from all social layers, in their every- 
day postures. This is Russia before the Revolution, 
at its period of utter despair and moral depression, and 
the world outside Russia was right to take Chekhov 
for the best guide through that real Russia. But one 
must not forget that this is not all Russia, and that 
the psychological moment described is a transient one, 
between two great periods of national effort. This is 
just the time of "no heroes." Chekhov's intellectual 
types crave for life and activity. But they have never 
had the chance to act and to live. They are sad, and 
they would like to be otherwise, but they have not 
force enough even for a real drama. They just live on. 
"Time will pass," one of the "Three Sisters" says, "and 
we shall go away forever. They will forget us, they 
will forget our faces, our voices. But our sufferings 
will pass into gladness for those who will live after us." 
That sister, Olga, is right. Her face and her voice are 
forgotten, but Chekhov's play and his tales will live, 



380 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

and they are already known all over the world. This 
is just truth, and truth is immortal. 

It would be unjust were I to forget to tell you that 
a great part of the success of Chekhov's plays in Russia 
is due to that other peculiarly Russian creation: the 
"Art Theater" by Mr. Stanislavsky. The very well- 
known theatrical critic and reformer, Mr. Gordon 
Craig, saw that theater in Moscow, and this is what he 
says of it. "What the Russians do upon their stage, 
they do to perfection. They waste time, money, labor, 
brains and patience like emperors. Like true emperors 
they do not think they have done all when they have 
merely spent a lavish sum upon decorations and ma- 
chinery. . . . They give hundreds of rehearsals to a 
play, they change and rechange a scene until it bal- 
ances to their thought ; they rehearse, and rehearse, and 
rehearse, inventing detail upon detail with consum- 
mate care and patience and always with vivid intelli- 
gence. Seriousness, character, these two qualities will 
guide the Moscow Art Theater to unending success in 
Europe and elsewhere." 

This prediction has already materialized, especially 
in our days of the Russian dispersion, due to the Bol- 
shevist tyranny. The foundations to the present suc- 
cess of the Russian theater abroad are, however, laid 
at the period now reviewed. The stage has become the 
center of Russian artistic activity abroad since about 
fifteen years ago: since 1906, when Serge Diaghilev 
came to Paris. A tournee by Adolph Bolm followed, 
with 28 Russian dancers, including Pavlowa, through 
Finland, Sweden and Germany. Then Diaghilev reap- 
peared, in 1909, in Paris. The names of Karsavina, 
Pavlowa, the Fokines, Bolm, Mordkin, Neshinski and 



RUSSIA'S CONTRIBUTION 381 

others have gradually become known in both hemi- 
spheres. It was just the time of revival for the Russian 
ballet, too, on the same principle of freedom from con- 
ventionality and tradition, and putting in the fore 
sincerity and steadiness of purpose. As the display of 
color was one of the principal slogans of the new Rus- 
sian art, our painters were hot satisfied with the limited 
frame of a picture. They became decorators and in- 
ventors of costumes, from MM. Benois, Bakst, Do- 
bushinsky, Bilibin, to Sudeikin and Goncharova. The 
best creative effort is now centered upon the stage, as 
you can see for yourself in this country. Stravinsky 
and Prokofiev write their music for the stage, Roerich 
paints the decorations. In 1918 you saw Rimsky- 
Korsakov's "Coq d'Or" on your Metropolitan Opera 
stage. The next season it was Stravinsky's "Pet- 
rushka," You saw Adolph Bolm's "Ballet Intime," and 
the Chicagoans have just listened to Prokofiev's new 
production, "Three Oranges," and are going to see 
and to hear Rimsky-Korsakov's other chef-d'oeuvre, 
"Snegurotchka" (the Snow Girl), with Roerich's deco- 
rations. The secret of all this success was given away 
by Gordon Craig, as quoted above. The Russian art- 
ists know what they are about, they are sincere and in 
earnest, they work for a real moral success, and they 
do not care about the rest. 

I must now come back to the last, the revolutionary 
period of Russian creative production. I put its be- 
ginning at the first year of our first Revolution — 1905. 
I do not know whether history will confirm this chrono- 
logical division. Most of us feel that here something 
new began to make itself felt in life as well as in art. 
Just what is it? The answer can only be given when 



382 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

this period is closed, which is not yet the case. That is 
why the characteristics of the period can only be ten- 
tatively discussed. 

One thing seems to be beyond dispute. The Revolu- 
tionary movement of 1905-1906 was not favorable to 
the spirit of Romantic reaction of the fin de siecle type. 
So many "new words" advertised since 1880, passed 
into history. Chekhov's sadness and boredom had to 
give way to a new period of feverish activity. The 
doomsday, predicted by moral philosophers like Vladi- 
mir Soloviev, was postponed. Wholesome optimism 
took the place of gloomy forebodings, and individual- 
istic strivings, influenced by Nietzsche, entered into 
queer alliances with collectivist teachings. The spell 
of mysticism was broken, at least for a time. In one 
way or another, most of the representatives of the 
"modernist" movement were touched by the new 
breath of time and modified accordingly their artistic 
production. Maxim Gorky became a favorite and a 
proletarian hero. Briusov, Balmont, Mereshkovsky 
hailed the revolution and constitution. Religious phi- 
losophers became philosophical socialists or mystical 
anarchists. The first excess of that revolutionary con- 
tagion soon passed, with the failure of the first revolu- 
tion. But pure Romanticism was shattered and has 
never returned. The public at large have reconciled 
themselves to the modernists, but at the same time the 
modernist movement has lost its firm and fixed out- 
lines. The generation has become eclectic. And that 
is why it is so difficult to characterize the fourth period, 
from 1905-1921. The one thing that is certain is that 
it is not a mere continuation of the former period of 
1880-1905. 

However, certain features begin to detach themselves 






RUSSIA'S CONTRIBUTION 383 

in that darkness, owing to that character of eclecticism 
which was impressed on the movement after 1905. 
Eclecticism seems to have played this time the part that 
genuine protests against tradition had formerly played. 
The new Romantic tradition, with its mystical under- 
current, is no more obligatory. Again life seems to 
take the place of visions. The neglected form is com- 
ing back and is beginning to circumscribe the limitless 
display of color and sound. The result will be syn- 
thetic: some happy combination of idealistic and real- 
istic elements in art which may augur the advent of a 
new classical period of Russian national art. 

Let us take some instances from contemporary music 
and painting. Stravinsky's last productions undoubt- 
edly reveal that double tendency. He still goes on 
studying sound as such. He brings together most 
unusual instruments; he lets them show their special 
color, their peculiar sonorities, and he is satisfied with 
his new result, new unheard-of combinations. He just 
breaks up his phrase, without any development, as soon 
as he is through with his experiments. These are 
sketches in musical coloring, separate touches, separate 
bricks for some new edifice to be built. In the mean- 
time Stravinsky writes in the idiom more intelligible 
to the average person and not necessarily for the ar- 
tistic elite. Listen to his "Impressions of War": you 
will hear the form, the rhythm, the melodies, fit for 
the "Gartenmusik" such as one hears at watering 
places, with the whole brilliancy of Stravinsky's or- 
chestra preserved. Take another of our youngest com- 
posers, Prokofiev. Some parts of his "Scythian Sym- 
phony" are just a counterpart of Roerich's "Adoration 
of the Sun." Primitive men in primitive rhythm dance 
to the rising sun. The dash and glitter of the first sun- 



384 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

beams is beautifully depicted by an unusual combina- 
tion of sounds in a perpetual crescendo. But this is a 
return to program, to the music with purpose, to the 
great master Mussorgsky! Of course, it is not a re- 
turn with empty hands, but with newly enriched tech- 
nical resources. And what about the adaptation of 
sound to word in his "Three Oranges/' the lively 
dialogues of choirs? I do not know what will come next 
from Prokofiev, but I know that he is now entrained to 
come back to the old masters of form, including 
Mozart. 

Let us now take parallel instances from modern 
painting. Here the reversion to Idealism is still more 
distinctive than in music. But here again realism is 
not quite what it was in the "sixties" and the "seven- 
ties." In the first place, the topics chosen are mostly 
not political, but pictorial. In the second place, the 
treatment of them reminds one rather of the natural- 
ism of the early Renaissance, than of modern realism. 
This is realism of the primitives. We have a very 
strong group of young painters whose work confirms 
that impression. Mr. Yakovlev reproduces scenes 
from the Far East without any stylization at all. But 
when he is left to himself, his painting, just as that of 
Mr. Shuhayev reminds one of Van Eyck's minute ac- 
curacy in smallest details. This is an extremely hard 
and conscientious worker. Another young and already 
powerful painter, Boris Grigoriev, brings us back to 
the naturalism of a Mateo Mattei of Siena or of Man- 
tegna. Mr. Grigoriev escaped recently from Bolshe- 
vist Russia and he is still haunted with pictures of 
the horrors, misery and starvation of his native coun- 
try. He gives us a selection of types of that Bolshe- 
vist "Rassaya" : he purposely makes use of that popu- 



RUSSIA'S CONTRIBUTION 385 

larly distorted form of the world "Russia." The types 
are horrible, almost inhuman. 1 If you compare them 
with original studies by the painter of the actual types 
of a peasant-soldier, or a religious fanatic, you will 
realize the "purpose." It is an exaggeration of natural- 
ism, but how different from Perov's or Repin's realism, 
and how primitively sincere in its attempt to enforce 
on you the impression desired by the painter! 

Grigoriev's canvas reminds me of another artistic 
criticism of Bolshevist Russia, — a criticism intended to 
be its apotheosis. I mean the poem of the late Alex- 
ander Block, "The Twelve." The Twelve Red sentinels 
patrol the streets of Petrograd in the night; a snow- 
storm rages around ; some old Russian types disappear 
in the whirlwind, while the Red band "without a cross" 
proceeding in "sovereign march," prepare to loot the 
"bourgeoisie" secluded in their houses, kill by the way 
a prostitute friend of their fellow soldier, whom they 
want to rob of her newly acquired money. They go 
on further singing robber songs, while Jesus Christ, in 
a crown of white roses, unseen through the storm, and 
untouched by the bullets of their shots, leads the Red 
procession. In a posthumous verse A. Block changes 
his mind and tries to explain away the last feature. 
But taken as a whole, his inspired picture of that 
Petrograd night remains the best and most realistic 
summary of that moral chaos which makes no real 
creation possible. 

However, it would be a mistake to think that all art 
has perished in Bolshevist Russia. On the contrary, 
Russian art is, probably, the only thing which still con- 
tinues to exist amidst the general ruin. But, in the 

*See the reproduction of that great canvas, very important for the 
history of our painting, in Musical America, December 10, 1921. 



386 RUSSIA TO-DAY AND TO-MORROW 

first place, this is only the continuation and the preser- 
vation of formerly acquired art richesses. As Mr. Say- 
ler says in his recent book on "The Russian Theater 
Under the Revolution/' "The Russian theater con- 
tinues to-day not because but in spite of the social 
struggle. . . . It is the theater of the first two decades 
of the XX Century. . . . The theater as the Revolu- 
tion will transform it, has not yet appeared." This 
observation may also be applied to other branches of 
art. 

But will a transformation come as a result of the 
Revolution? Or will it be a complete decay of crea- 
tive effort and, as some people have said, will Russia 
be great only in her past? As the current idea is that 
the Russian intellectual class has been wholly exter- 
minated, what can take its place? And has not the 
spirit of refinement gone entirely from Russian culture, 
together with the Russian upper class? 

I might answer by pointing to that part of the Rus- 
sian intellectuals and members of the privileged class 
which is being preserved in the ranks of the Russian 
emigration in the various countries. But it would not 
be to the point. The question is whether a new wave 
of creative inspiration can be expected to come from 
within the new and democratized Russia. And the 
right answer is that Russian art became democratized 
more than half a century ago. Most of our artists 
and many of our writers, as a matter of fact, have come 
from the lower middle class and from the class of farm- 
ers. The period of purely aristocratic culture came 
to an end as early as 1860. The kind of refinement it 
implied may have gone in Russia, as was also the case 
in other countries of Europe after 1789 and 1848. But 
new generations evolve new forms of moral and intel- 



RUSSIA'S CONTRIBUTION 387 

lectual culture, and the enlarged social basis of a post- 
revolutionary development is sure to bring with it new 
possibilities. It may take the shape of a return to the 
primitive; a period of indecision and standstill may 
intervene. But it does not mean stagnation and death. 
I even strongly doubt that it will be a completely new 
start. It is more probable that the symptoms of a new 
synthesis, which I have just mentioned, will evolve 
into full blossom, and a stage of new equilibrium, a 
second classical epoch, may be in view. 




ALPHABETICAL INDEX 



Alexander I, 15 

Alexander III, 16 

Alexeiev, General, 20, 21, 24, 137, 

138, 139, 148 
Allied Intervention in Siberia, 

317-322 
American Relief Administration, 

250-251, 256-260 
America's Policy towards Russia, 

303-305, 317-318, 320-321, 326- 

327, 347-350 
Andreyev, Leonid, 379 
Angora, 118 
Armenia, 81, 88, 90 
Armenians, 73 

Avxentiev, 151, 152, 153, 154 
Azerbaidjan, 88, 90, 303 

Bakst, 381 

Balakirev, 372 

Balfour, 89-90 

Balmont, 378, 382 

Benois, Alexander, 373, 381 

Bilibin, 381 

Block, Alexander, 385 

Bolm, Adolph, 380, 381 

Bolshevist (Communist) Party, 

61, 62, 64, 65, 70 
Borodin, 372 
Brest-Litovsk Treaty, 57, 66, 85, 

89 
Briusov, 378, 382 

Catherine II, 15 

"Che-Ka," 69, 273 

Chekhov, 379-380 

Chicherin, 113, 114, 335 

China, 302 

Chinese Eastern Railway, 351-354 



Churchill, Winston, 111 
Clemenceau, 111 
Colby, Secretary, 91-93, 304 
Constantinople, 302 
Constituent Assembly, 27, 31, 32, 

35, 38, 51, 53, 56, 89, 94, 166, 187 
Constituent Assembly of Eastern 

Siberia, 338-339 
Constitution of 1906, 17 
Constitutional-Democratic Party 

("Cadets"), 3, 30, 31, 81, 165, 

318 
Cooperative organizations, 291- 

292 
Cooperative organizations under 

Bolshevism, 219 
Cossacks, 167, 173-174, 180, 182 
Cotton industry, 194-195 
Craig, Gordon, 380, 381 
Cui, Cesar, 372 
Czecho-Slovaks, 133-134, 149, 150, 

151, 162, 320, 321 

Dargomishsky, 366-367 
Denikin, General, 138, 143, 148, 

164-174 
Diaghilev, Serge, 380 
"Directory," 151 
Dobushinsky, 381 
Dostoyevsky, 368-369 
Dragomirov, General, 166 
Dukhonin, General, 65 
Duma, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 14, 19, 21, 23, 

24, 29, 30, 80, 82 

Education under Bolshevism, 280- 

283 
Emancipation Act of 1861, 13 
Esthonia, 87, 175 
Esthonians, 73 



389 



390 



ALPHABETICAL INDEX 



"Far Eastern Republic," 333-336, 

338, 339, 341 
Federation, 293-294 
Fedotov, 367 
Finances under Bolshevism, 211- 

213 
Finland, 6 
Finno-Ugrians, 73 
Finns, 73, 78, 83 
Flax production, 194 
Fokines, 380 
France, 183 
Fuel production, 191-192 

Genoa, 269 

Georgia, 81, 88, 89, 90, 303 

Georgians, 73 

Germans, 73 

Glinka, 365, 366 

Gogol, 365 

Goncharova, 381 

Gorki, Maxim, 274, 379, 382 

Great Russians, 72, 74 

"Green" Army, 171-172 

Grigoriev, 384, 385 

Grishin-Almazov, General, 161 

Guins, 157-160 

Hanihara, Masanao, 342-343, 346 
Hara, Premier, 336 
Horvath, General, 320 
Hughes, Secretary, 92, 266, 270, 
302, 347, 348, 349-350 

India, 117, 118 

International Russian Relief 

Commission, 254 
International Socialist Congress 

at Basel, 33 
International Socialist Congress 

at Stuttgart, 33 
Irkutsk Duma, 162 
Iron production, 193 
Ishevsk army, 161 
Ivanov, Alexander, 367 
Ivanov-Renov, General, 161 

Japanese fishing rights, 314-315 
Japanese intervention in Siberia, 
319-320, 322-346 



Jews, 73, 78 
Joffe, 102 

Kaledin, General, 141 

Kamenev, 64, 112 

Kappel, General, 336 

Karsavina, 380 

Kautsky, 35, 52 

Kerensky, 35, 38, 39, 154 

Keynes, 270 

Kienthal Conference, 98 

Kishkin, 252-253 

Knox, General, 152, 154, 161 

Kolchak, Admiral, 148, 152, 153, 

154-165, 324, 325, 326 
Kornilov, General, 38, 39, 40, 138, 

139, 142 
Krasnov, Ataman, 145 
Krassin, 203 
Krimov, General, 21 
Kropotkin, Prince, 270 
Krylenko, 65 
Kuban, 167 
Kun, Bela, 103 
Kuno, Yoshi S., 305-309 
Kuprin, 379 

Land problem, 12, 13, 14 

Landed aristocracy, 12 

Landowners, 171 

Larin, 58, 59, 223 

Latsis, 68 

Latvia, 87 

"League of Nations," 109, 302 

Lenin, 24, 34, 35, 38, 40, 46, 48, 

49, 50, 51, 52, 55, 56, 83, 84, 99, 

100, 101, 102, 108, 109-110, 112, 

268, 272-273 
Liebknecht, 102 
Lithuania, 80-81 
Lithuanians, 73 
Little Russians (Ukrainians), 72, 

74 
Lloyd George, 19, 86, 87, 90, 111, 

147, 183, 270 
Lockhart, 106 
Lomov, 203 
Lvov, Prince, 41 

March, General, 175 
Martov, 34 



ALPHABETICAL INDEX 



391 



Masaryk, President, 321 
Maslov, S., 190, 283, 284 
Medvediev, 334, 339 
Mereshkovsky, 378, 382 
Merkulov, 340, 341 
Militarization of labor, 205-208 
Milner, Lord, 295 
Monarchists, 27, 186-187, 286-287 
Monarchy, 274, 275 
Mongols, 73 
Mordkin, 380 
Moscow Art Theatre, 380 
Mussorgsky, 371 
Mussulmans, 81 

Nansen, Dr., 231, 253, 254, 256, 

268 
Nationalities in Russia, 16 
Neshinski, 380 

Nicholas II, 2, 3, 19, 20, 21, 27 
Nicolayevsk, 345-346 
Nicolayevsk incident, 327-333 
"Northwestern" Government, 175 

October Manifesto, 2 

Pavlova, 380 

Peasantry under Bolshevism, 208- 

230 
Peasants, 12 
Pepelayev, Victor, 164 
Perov, 370 

Peter the Great, 11, 13, 15 
Poland, 6, 86-87, 182, 183, 304 
Poles, 73, 78 
Polish independence, 80 
Population under Bolshevism, 

190-192 
"Pravda," 104 
"Progressive bloc," 19 
Prokofiev, 381, 384 
Provisional Government, 29, 32, 

35 
Pushkin, 364-365 

Quakers' organization, 256 

Radek, 102 

Rasputin, 20, 21 

Red Army, 66, 67, 70, 273 



Red Terror, 68, 69, 70 

Repin, 370 

Revolution of 1905, 1, 2, 18 

Riga Treaty, 86-87, 183 

Rimsky-Korsakov, 372, 381 

Robbins, Col. Raymond, 102, 106, 

107 
Romanovsky, General, 167 
Roerich, 375-376, 381, 383 
Root, Elihu, 294-295 
Rumanians, 73 
Russki, General, 24 
Russo-Chinese relations, 351-354 
Russo-Japanese War, 18 
Rykov, 59, 203 

Sadoul, Captain, 102, 106, 107 
Sakhalin, 304, 316-317, 343-344 
Scriabin, 377-378 
Second International, 98 
Semenov, 319, 325, 336, 338, 340, 

341 
Serov, 375 
Sevres Treaty, 88 
Shidehara, Baron, 324, 325, 327 
Shuhayev, 384 

Siberian colonization, 309-313 
Siberian Government, 150-152 
Skoropadsky, 144 
Slavophils, 10 

Social-Revolutionaries, 30, 31 
Soviet bourgeoisie, 201-202 
Soviet Constitution, 62, 63 
Spargo, John, 320, 323 
Stanislavsky, 380 
Stolypin, 4, 14 
Stinnes, 270, 287 
Stravinski, 377, 381, 383 
Struve, P. B., 180 
Sudeikin, 381 
Sugar production, 194 
Supreme Council, 270 
Surikov, 375 

"Tatar Republic," 237-241 

Tchaikovsky, 372 

Third International, 35, 91, 98, 

110, 270-271 
Thomas, Albert, 19, 154 
Tobelson-Krasnoschekov, 335 
Tolstoy, 368-369 



392 



ALPHABETICAL INDEX 



Transcaucasia, 88-92 
Transcaucasian Diet, 89 
Trotsky, 34, 66, 83, 100, 108-109. 

205, 206 
Tsereteli, 35 
Tzarina, 20, 21 
Turkeniev, 368-369 
Turkestan, 117 
Turkey, 89, 91, 302 
Turko-Tatars, 73 

Ukraine, 81, 144, 180 
"Union of Autonomists-Federal- 
ists," 80 
Ural army, 161 
Urquhart, Leslie, 266-268, 270 

Vanderlip, Washington B., 337 
Vasnetsov, 375 
Venetsianov, 367 
Vereschagin, 370 



Vladivostok, 304, 334, 335-336, 

340-341 
Votkinsk army, 161 
Vrubel, 374 

Washington Conference, 297-298, 
302, 304-305, 324, 325, 347-350 

Wells, H. G., 48, 287 

White Russians, 72, 74 

Wilson, President, 303, 319, 321 

Witte, Count, 18 

Working men under Bolshevism, 
196-208 

Wrangel, General, 168, 174, 176- 
186 

Yakovlev, 384 

Yudenich, General, 174-176 

Zimmerwald Conference, 98 
Zinoviev, 101, 112 






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